


Oh, You're My Best Friend

by Xingshou



Category: Hazbin Hotel (Web Series)
Genre: Abuse, Alastor is Bad at Feelings (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust Being Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angst, Badass Cherri, Cherri and Angel are besties, Cherri and Angel are friends because they're both impulsive morons, Demon Deals, Eating Disorders, Gen, M/M, Poor Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Sex Work, Slow Build, Slow Burn, Sort Of, There will be radiodust, Valentino Being a Jerk (Hazbin Hotel)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-13
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:40:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 48,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26438842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xingshou/pseuds/Xingshou
Summary: A comment from Valentino about Angel's weight is the last straw for Cherri, who can't stand seeing her friend constantly teetering on the edge of spiraling anymore. She makes a deal with Valentino in the hopes of getting Angel's contract. It doesn't go how she thought it would.
Relationships: Alastor/Angel Dust (Hazbin Hotel), Angel Dust & Cherri Bomb (Hazbin Hotel)
Comments: 167
Kudos: 308





	1. The Last Straw

It was the fucking donuts. 

Cherri had always known that her bestie Angel Dust struggled with self-esteem issues. It wasn’t a secret. Despite being famous and having fans lined up the block to view his latest film, the spider struggled with his own self-image. Not to mention it seemed like that rat bastard of a pimp of his seemed to exacerbate it on purpose. 

But Angel was strong, too. Cherri had watched him rally and pull himself out of depression spirals again and again, sometimes with her help, sometimes with the help of drugs, sometimes by his own stubbornness, and sometimes all three. 

Things had been different since Angel had agreed to be the first test subject for the Happy Hotel, though. Val had been more than pissed when he saw the news broadcast of the turf war, and seemed to be getting harsher on Angel every day, both in his stupid snide comments and in how hard he worked him. 

Cherri couldn’t help but feel a little guilty. Angel had assured her again and again that she didn’t need to, it wasn’t her fault, and he would’ve shown up to help her with her territory grab regardless of what Val saw or heard. 

She wasn’t sure, though. If she hadn’t texted her friend about wanting backup, he wouldn’t have been caught on the news, and he would’ve been able to break the news about the hotel to Valentino on his own terms, if he ever did. But there was no point in looking back – it wasn’t like she could change anything in the past anymore.  
She could, however, try to make Angel’s present-day better. 

So, Cherri staked out the studio, waiting for Angel to come out so she could surprise him, not caring how long she had to sit there. She ended up sitting there for four hours until she finally spotted her friend slinking out of the studio, his long body hunched in on itself. He perked right up when she slung down to land in front of him though, a surprised smile spreading across his face. 

“Cherri? What’re ya doin’ here?”

“Thought I’d surprise ya,” Cherri elbowed him in his ribs, “There’s this new donut place built about a few blocks over. Looks surprisingly easy to break into. Ya up for it?” 

“Fuck yes,” Angel said, straightening, his hunched and exhausted look disappearing, replaced by an excited one instead, “I haven’t knocked ova a store in for-fuckin-eva. Let’s do it.” 

Cherri noticed he didn’t look back at the studio once as he followed her to the donut shop. 

\--

The middle of the night found the two friends sitting in the middle of Cherri’s bed, surrounded by donut boxes, music blaring from Cherri’s boom-box as they laughed together. She’d even had Fat Nuggets brought over from the hotel, and the pig was rooting around for crumbs in Cherri’s sheets. 

“I’ll neva figure out the kinda dummy who’ll open a store down here,” Angel said, taking a bite of a cream filled éclair, “But I’m sure glad this guy did! Did ya see him runnin’? Classic.” 

“And I got to test out a few of these babies,” Cherri said, rolling some of her smaller bombs around in her fingers. She loved when she could get Angel like this – smiling, relaxed, not worried about anything, surrounded by his favorite treats… 

His phone went off, and it was like all the joy and warm feeling was sucked right out of the room. Cherri was sitting right here, so the only person texting Angel this late at night would be – 

“It’s Val,” Angel said. Even his voice had changed. It was tighter, like he was trying to hold something in. 

Cherri tried to be casual. “So? Tell him to fuck off. You’re done with work for the night, right? We’re having fun.” She didn’t miss how Angel’s fingers subtly tightened around the phone case. 

“Eh,” Angel’s eyes shifted as he looked for an excuse and couldn’t find one, “It’s late. I should go, anyway. Need my beauty sleep!” 

“Stay over, then,” Cherri shrugged. It wouldn’t be the last time Angel had crashed in her bed, but he shook his head, and she couldn’t help but wonder what was in Val’s text. She knew better than to ask by now. If Angel wanted to tell her, he would. 

“Sorry, babe,” Angel said, already getting up, grabbing Fat Nuggets with his lower arms and using his main ones to fit the harness and leash around the pig, “Thanks for the fun night though, it was great as usual.” 

“Anytime, Angie,” Cherri said, grabbing a donut and wrapping it in the tissue paper it had come in, “Take one for the road, then, okay?” 

“Are you spoilin’ me?” Angel teased, but he did grab the donut. 

“Shut up,” Cherri nudged him again, walking him and Fat Nuggets to the door. “Text me when you get home, okay?” 

Angel gave her a salute and headed out. Cherri watched him head down the sidewalk from her window, then sighed and flopped on her bed, not bothering to move the empty donut boxes out of the way. Damn Valentino. Lately he’d been sending Angel all over town on stupid as shit errands at all hours of the day and night, most likely more retaliation for the hotel thing. 

Cherri rolled over, staring at the wall as she zoned out. She wasn’t quite ready to sleep yet, hopped up on sugar and adrenaline from Angel’s visit. She jumped as her phone buzzed – surely Angel Dust wouldn’t have made it all the way back to the hotel already? 

She moved to her back, holding the phone up to her face to be able to read it better with her one eye as she opened Angel’s text. Instead of a simple “I’m home” text, it was a screengrab from Angel’s Voxtagram. He’d posted a picture of the donut she’d given him to take home, thanking her for the fun night. Her eye wandered to the comment section. 

Cherri shot up as anger shot through her body. Underneath all the positive comments from Angel’s fans, there in black and white, were three words that Cherri knew were about to wreck her friend. A comment from Valentino, simply stating, “Watch your weight.” 

The cyclops demon nearly threw her phone across the room she was so pissed off. She seriously considered leaving her apartment right now and running to the hotel to reassure Angel, but she didn’t want to get him in trouble for having unapproved visitors or some shit. 

She took a breath and scooted to the edge of the bed to type out a quick reply text to Angel. 

“What the fuck? That creep doesn’t know what he’s talking about. You’re beautiful, Angie, don’t change ever <3 <3 <3.” 

Knowing Angel’s tendency, especially lately, to spiral, Cherri decided not to go to sleep just yet. She lay there, for hours, just in case her phone buzzed. Just in case he needed help. As soon as her phone did buzz, she snapped it up, hurriedly opening the text, but all Angel had sent was a heart emoji. 

Cherri let out a breath. That was okay. The fact that he answered at all was a good sign. She’d just make sure to check on him first thing in the morning, see if she could nudge him off the path of self-doubt and judgment, and everything would be fine. 

-

When Cherri awoke in the morning, she checked her phone, hoping for a text from Angel, but she had no notifications at all. They’d stayed up late, so it was possible her friend was still asleep, but Cherri had a bad feeling. She knew Angel didn’t have any official work scheduled until that evening, so unless he was on another bullshit mission for Val, he’d definitely still be at the hotel. 

Deciding to act on her impulse from the previous night, Cherri decided to head for the hotel. She hopped along rooftops, dropping a few bombs here and there as she went. Hey, she was still an anarchist with poor impulse control, after all. 

Usually she’d ignore the front door of the place and climb straight up to Angel’s window, but if he was in a bad place, or even just still sleeping, she didn’t want to scare him, so in through the front door she went, standing awkwardly in the lobby. 

“Hi, Cherri!” Charlie came bounding out of the office a moment later, grinning her blonde head off. Cherri didn’t mind the princess – she was weirdly optimistic, sure, but anyone willing to give Angel a safe space was good people in Cherri’s book. 

“Princess –“ 

“I keep telling you, it’s Charlie –“ 

“Yeah, whatever.” Cherri put a hand on her hip, “Charlie, did you see Angel come in last night?” 

“No, sorry, it must’ve been really late because I was asleep already,” Charlie said. “But his coat’s here and his door’s shut so I’m sure he’s here! Want me to ring his room phone?” 

Cherri shook her head. “It’s okay. Mind if I go up?” 

“Weeeelllll it’s kinda against the rules for visitors to go up to the non-public areas, buuut… since it’s you, I guess it’ll be okay,” Charlie smiled. “Are you suuuure you don’t wanna sign up? It could be fun, especially with Angel here too!” 

Cherri rolled her eyes. It was never-ending with this chick. “I’m fine, thanks. I’m just going up to Angel’s. Ya wanna frisk me or some shit?” 

Charlie blinked as if she hadn’t even thought of that. “Oh… why? Did you bring anything, um, dangerous?” 

“Just bombs. I didn’t bring any drugs or liquor or whatever if that’s what ya mean.” 

“Promise not to bomb anything in the hotel and you’re free to go,” Charlie said. 

“It’s a deal,” Cherri chuckled. “Oh and hey, I might stay for breakfast too. That okay?” 

“Of course!” Charlie beamed, “I’ll go and see what we have right now!” 

Good, Cherri thought as she climbed the stairs to the floor Angel’s room was on. She wanted to have enough good food available to tempt Angel with, because after last night’s comment from Val, she was worried about the direction this could go. 

She paused as she was about to pound on Angel’s door. She swore she heard scuffling from behind her, but when she turned to look, there was nothing but the empty hallway. Shrugging it off, she turned back around, only to let out a loud startled scream. 

The Radio Demon definitely had not been in this hallway two seconds ago, but now he stood just feet from her, grinning like usual. 

“The fuck do you want?” Cherri asked, trying to keep the shaking out of her voice. Despite Angel’s apparent disinterest in politics that didn’t affect him in some way, Cherri was well aware of who the Radio Demon was, and he scared the crap out of her. She’d heard one of his broadcasts, re-broadcasted from somewhere else a long time ago, and it made her skin crawl. 

“Visiting our dear Angel Dust, are we?” the red clad demon asked. Something about the crackle of his feedback made her want to leap out the nearest window and run away, but she stood her ground. 

“How is it any of your business?” 

“Oh, it isn’t,” Alastor said, still grinning down at her. He snapped his fingers and a package, wrapped in pink paper, appeared in his hand. “This might be, though. It was outside, addressed to your furry little friend in there. I thought I’d deliver it to his room.” 

Despite all her instincts screaming at her not to, Cherri reached out and snatched the box from the demon’s hand, hugging it to her chest, “Yeah, great, thanks, I’ll give it to him. You can get lost now.” 

“Enjoy your visit.” Alastor was gone in a blink, making Cherri jump again. She took a couple shuddering breaths to get her heart rate under control, then knocked on Angel’s door. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Charlie, you said official breakfast time wasn’t until –“ Angel paused in his tirade as he pulled open the door and saw Cherri standing there instead of the princess. “Cherri? You okay?” 

“I wanted to see if you were okay,” Cherri said, “After last night…” 

“Oh,” Angel chuckled a little bit, pulling his door open wider. “Aww. Come in, babe.” 

Cherri followed Angel into his pastel pink room, sitting down on the edge of his bed. Angel had only been wearing a pair of loose pink shorts when he’d answered the door, but now he picked up a fluffy matching bathrobe, pulling it on. 

“You really sure you’re okay?” Cherri checked. “I thought maybe after Val’s comment, you might be… upset?” 

“Eh, I’m fine,” Angel said. “Sticks and stones, baby doll. He’s said worse shit to me.” His eyes traveled to the pink-wrapped box she held. “That for me?”

He snatched it and was opening it with his lower arms before Cherri could say anything. When the box of diet pills was revealed, he just looked up at her silently. The look of pain and hurt in his eyes made Cherri’s breath catch in her throat. 

“Cherri…?” 

“They’re not from me,” Cherri insisted, disgusted. She searched around in the wrapping until she found what she was looking for, holding it up triumphantly. “See?” 

It was the tag that had been cast aside during Angel’s eager unwrapping of the box – it read: 

To: Angel  
From: Val 

And of course, the moth had decorated it with his signature hearts. 

“Right…” Angel said, still staring at the box. “Right, ‘course they wouldn’t be from ya. Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking…” 

Cherri snatched the box, standing purposefully and marching over to the wastebasket Angel kept under his vanity, Fat Nuggets nipping at her heels, hoping for a treat. 

Angel blinked. “What’re ya doin’?” 

“This is stupid, Angie, he’s just trying to get under your skin,” Cherri said, tossing the box in the wastebasket with a satisfying clank. “You had one donut. One. You don’t need this shit, you’re already a walking fuzzy noodle.” 

Angel raised an eyebrow at her. “Thanks?” 

Cherri rolled her eye. “I’m just saying, you definitely don’t need diet pills. Fuck Val, seriously.” 

“Heh. Yeah. Right…” Angel folded his arms in his lap. Cherri could already see his confidence draining away, and she was walking a razor’s edge to catch him before he actually fell. Again, she felt a burning hatred for Valentino, but there wasn’t anything she could do about it right this second. 

“Hey,” Cherri said, “Charlie said I could stay for breakfast even though I’m not really a resident. Cool, huh? Wanna go down?” 

“Guess we should, or the princess’ll be knockin’ my door down soon,” Angel said, but the lack of enthusiasm in his voice worried Cherri. As they made their way down to the dining area, she was happy she’d made the decision to come to the hotel today. 

Nobody else was at the table yet besides Charlie and Vaggie. Charlie gave Cherri a questioning look as she sat down with Angel, but Cherri gave a small shake of the head – she’d fill in the princess later. Maybe. 

“Niffty made these!” Charlie said in her usual chipper voice, gesturing to the spread of chocolate chip pancakes and waffles, along with tureens of eggs and bacon. “Everyone dig in!” 

Cherri wasn’t one to turn down free food, so she took a bit of everything. Glancing at Angel’s plate, she wasn’t thrilled to see he’d only taken one pancake, and appeared to not even be eating it. 

“Dude, come on,” she tried. “It’s fuckin’ good. Probably better than anything else you’ll get down here.” 

“Are you not hungry, Angel?” Charlie asked, looking worried. 

“Hm?” Angel looked up. “Oh – ah, no, not really. It’s okay. It does look fuckin’ good, though.” He put a forkful in his mouth, and Cherri took that as a win, at least. 

Cherri was prepared to sit there and stare at Angel until he got a proper meal in his stomach, but her plan was busted as Angel checked his phone and let out a sigh. 

“Thanks for the breakfast, guys. Tell Niffty it was great. I gotta get outta here, Val needs me to do some shit for him.” 

“What?” Cherri demanded. “What shit? What shit can’t he do himself?” 

“Cherri, c’mon,” Angel said in a soft voice, the voice he used when he didn’t want her to push anymore. She shut her mouth, still pissed off. 

“Walk me to the door?” The spider requested, getting up, leaving the pancake still half uneaten. 

“Fine.” 

“Oh – okay, bye,” Charlie said, looking as though she was unsure how to react. “Good to see you again, Cherri! Let me know if you change your mind!” 

Cherri flipped her off as she followed Angel to the door. 

“You can’t let him run you around like this,” Cherri said, watching Angel pull his jacket on in preparation to go and do whatever it was Val needed doing. Angel gave her a look. 

“You know I don’t have a choice.” 

Cherri looked away, “I know, I’m just – I worry about you, Angie, seriously.” 

Angel plastered a smile on his face, one that Cherri knew to be painfully, totally fake. “I’ll be fine. Thanks for the concern, though.” 

Cherri followed him into the courtyard, “Just, please, eat something normal, okay?” 

A familiar limo decorated with hearts pulled up to the front of the hotel, and Angel pulled open the door, blowing a kiss in Cherri’s direction, “I’ll do my best, sista.” 

She knew very well that wasn’t a real answer as she watched the car pull off. 

“Oh dear.” 

Again, Cherri let out a scream and jumped a mile in the air as Alastor appeared next to her. “Stop doing that! Freak!” 

“I do apologize,” Alastor said, though his grin indicated he didn’t feel guilty in the least. “Force of habit. Is our dear Angel Dust feeling unwell? He only ate one bite of his breakfast. I’d hate for him to waste away. Starvation is really the least entertaining way for a person to die, if I’m honest.” 

Cherri’s eye twitched, and if she hadn’t feared the power of this particular overlord, she would’ve punched him right in the face. Instead, she muttered, “Stop stickin’ your nose where it doesn’t belong.” 

“I’ll keep that in mind, my dear, but no promises,” Alastor chuckled, waving her off as she started to make her way home, “Good to see you!” 

-

Cherri seethed as she walked home. She was too distracted to leap from the rooftops. Only two words went through her brain, beating in the rhythm of her shoes on the sidewalk.  
Fuck. Val. Fuck. Val. Fuck. Val. 

She paused as she passed the porn studio. She knew Angel kept a lot from her about what Valentino did to him on a daily basis, but what she did know filled her with rage, and this recent attempt to destroy her friend only made her blood boil more. 

Someone needed to do something to help Angel. To protect him. 

And, she thought as she reached impulsively for the door to the studio, she was going to be the one to do it. Right fucking now. 

-

She was kind of surprised that Valentino didn’t seem all that surprised or disturbed about her storming into her office, but then again she had a feeling he was the type of guy that probably had angry people storming into his office all the time. He didn’t even look up from what he was writing. 

Cherri stalked up to his desk and swiped all his papers off his desk. Valentino let out an annoyed sigh and leaned back to regard her. 

“What.” 

“Do you know who I am?” Cherri demanded. 

Val looked her up and down. “I don’t know. A new slut? I ain’t hirin’ right now, sugar.” 

Cherri almost reached out and strangled the moth. “I’m Angel’s friend. His best friend.” 

Valentino let out a little laugh at that. “Oh. I see. Sucks to be you.” 

Cherri growled, what little impulse control she had flying out the window as she launched herself at Valentino and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. “You are destroying him,” she growled. “I don’t give a fuck how much money he makes you, you’re destroying him, and you’re going to stop. Today. I want his contract, fucker.” 

“You can’t afford it, sweetie,” Val said, yanking his coat away from her. “If that’s all –“ 

“A trade, then,” Cherri said frantically, not even knowing what she was saying. “A trade. I’ll sign a contract if you give over his.” 

“Why should I?” Val yawned. “Girls are a dime a dozen. Angel’s unique, and he has a following already. You’re nobody. Nobody cares what you do. Face it, bitch. Anything you have to offer is worthless to me, compared to what I get from Angel.” 

Cherri’s mind was spinning. She had to help Angel, find a way to get his contract from this psycho. Even she was surprised when the words, “Radio Demon!” Popped from her mouth. 

Val regarded her quizzically then. “What? What about him?” 

“I can get close to him,” Cherri said. “I know you’re enemies or some shit. I can get you inside info. On how to destroy him. He already knows me ‘cause I’m at the hotel sometimes to see Angel, and he wouldn’t suspect me ‘cause he wouldn’t know I work for you. Unlike Angel.” 

“Hmm…” Val leaned back in his chair. “That, I might be willing to try.” 

Cherri perked up. “So Angel’s contract?” 

“No, no, no,” Val wagged a finger. “Not that easy, babe. I gotta test it out first, make sure you’re not blowing smoke up my ass. You sign a contract with me, you get me the useful info, then you get Angel Dust’s contract, if I’m satisfied. That’s the only offer. Take it or leave it.” 

Cherri didn’t hesitate; she didn’t even think. “I’m in.” 

A slow grin spread across Valentino’s face. “Excellent.” He pulled a contract from his desk, scribbling on it for a moment before passing it over to her. 

Cherri glanced over it quickly, but it seemed to be exactly what Val had just proposed, with no weird shit thrown in. She took the pen he passed her and signed it. 

“One week,” Valentino said as he rolled up the new contract and stored it in his coat. “That’s when your first report will be due. Then I’ll see if you’re actually of any use to me. If not… eh. No loss for me, I could use someone new for target practice anyway.” 

“Fuck you,” Cherri said. 

“Anytime, babe,” Valentino answered, going back to his paperwork like nothing had happened.  
-

Although Cherri knew she should feel fearful, or worried, or something, she felt elated as she returned to the street to begin the walk home. All she had to do was get back to the hotel, get some information on Alastor, and then she could get Angel free. 

She couldn’t wait to get started.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm still updating my other (and first!) Hazbin fic, but sometimes a plot bunny bites you and you gotta go with it RIGHT AWAY.  
> Also yes this was 10000 % inspired by their Instagrams.   
> I don't know why I'm craving so much angst lately but I want MORE. MORE ANGST. I love angst.  
> There will be RadioDust... later. I also love Slow Burns so I should warn you now this is gonna be a super slow one. I never used to ship RadioDust but I read too many amazing fics and now I do.  
> Thanks for reading, comment if you wish! Next chapter will be Angel Dust's POV.


	2. The Discovery

It was the fucking donuts. 

Every single day Angel thought he should get down on his knees and thank whoever was responsible for sending Cherri to him. She’d been a great friend ever since they met shortly after she fell, and she had a knack for turning Angel around on even his darkest days. 

Today had definitely had the potential of turning dark in Angel’s mind. The shoot had been fucking long, for one thing – for another, Val had apparently thought it was funny to switch the call sheets around, sending Angel into a more hardcore scene than he’d been expecting or prepared for. The moth swore up and down that someone else must have changed the call sheets, but Angel knew better. He was being punished. 

If only he’d known they were filming a news broadcast during that turf war… 

Angel knew Cherri felt guilty about indirectly getting him caught on footage that resulted in rage from his boss, but he told her he would’ve shown up anyway. That was true – Angel had kind of hoped to keep the whole hotel and ‘going clean’ thing to himself for a few more weeks before he figured out how to tell Val, but the consequences didn’t matter. When his best friend texted for backup, he came running, just like she showed up for him every single time he needed her. 

So his work nights became long, stupid, and painful. 

Val had apparently gotten all he needed on camera for the night, and Angel made for the door, his gangly body hunched in on itself. It was something he did when he was in pain, or not feeling well, or depressed – there was something comforting in just trying to make himself smaller. 

All he wanted to do was run back to the hotel and crash on the closest, softest thing he could find. Everything hurt – his back hurt where he’d been thrown into the wall, his ribs hurt where his sides had been grabbed too hard, and his knees just plain hurt. He couldn’t remember doing anything that would hurt his knee joints, but it was enough to make him walk more slowly. He was so wrapped up in his own thoughts that he didn’t see Cherri until she swung down right in front of him. 

“Cherri?” A surprised smile graced his features – if there was ever a night he needed a friendly face! “What are ya doin’ here?” 

“Thought I’d surprise ya,” Angel tried not to flinch as she elbowed his ribs, “There’s this new donut place built about a few blocks over. Looks surprisingly easy to break into. Ya up for it?” 

Angel straightened back up to his full height at that, his eyes squinting a little as his back and knees cracked. Sure, he was tired, but screw that – he could feel genuine excitement bubbling up inside him. What better way to blow off steam than rolling a store for treats with your best friend? He could’ve hugged Cherri for showing up when she did. 

“Fuck yes,” He answered, “I haven’t knocked ova a store in for-fuckin’-eva. Let’s do it!” 

Angel deliberately didn’t look back at the studio as he followed Cherri down the block. He didn’t want to think about work. Or what was in store for him at work. Or Val. Or –  
He blinked as he nearly bumped into Cherri as she stopped. Angel looked around, realizing he’d been following her on autopilot, lost in his thoughts. They were in a shadowy alley – across the street, a brightly lit donut shop with a surprisingly cheery-looking proprietor behind the desk. 

Angel and Cherri met each other’s eyes, giving each other an excited look. A classic mistake of newly fallen denizens of Hell – opening a brightly lit shop to give themselves some kind of comfort, or a sense of purpose, never thinking about the fact that it drew attention from people like Angel and Cherri who would just want to have fun with it. 

Well, fun for them, anyway. Which usually meant blowing it up. 

Cherri threw the first bomb, grinning as the front of the store exploded into green smoke, sending the owner screaming into the back, waving his arms. She turned to Angel. “Ready?” 

Angel nodded, slipping a new clip into his tommy gun with a click, “As always, babes.” 

-  
Joy. This was genuine joy, a feeling Angel didn’t feel very often. But right now, sitting with Cherri in the center of her bed, surrounded by the boxes of the donuts they’d stolen, he felt it. Occasionally a quick thought would poke in, jabbing him like a poke in the ribs, reminding him that this feeling would end, the moment would end, he’d go back to –  
Angel shook his head. Nope, he was having fun now. He could worry about other stuff when he had to worry about it. 

“Did ya see that guy run?” Angel chuckled, taking a bite of the cream filled éclair he’d chosen from one of the boxes, carefully moving Fat Nuggets aside so the pig wouldn’t disrupt them as it rooted in the sheets. Another blessing – Cherri had called the hotel and had them bring Fat Nuggets over. Here, in between his best friend and his beloved pet.  
Angel was happy. 

Even though his night had started rough, Cherri had made it great, easing the spider into a better headspace, and nothing could ruin it, except --

Angel’s phone buzzed. It was half buried in the sheets, and he moved them aside to reach for it. He could see Cherri out of the corner of his eye, her face practically begging him not to open the text, but she knew just as well as he did that he didn’t have a choice. 

Val: Angel Cakes. Get back here. Now. Important job for you. 

Angel glanced at Cherri. He knew she could feel it too, the warm feeling and happiness sucked right out of the room, just from a simple text that she couldn’t even see. “It’s Val,” Angel told her. He didn’t miss the shift in her body language, though she tried to play it off by being casual. 

“So? Tell him to fuck off. You’re done with work for the night, right? We’re having fun.” 

Angel tightened his fingers around his phone case. It was still buzzing, but he hoped his tight grip would muffle it so as to not alert Cherri as to the constant texts coming in. 

Val: ???  
Val: Respond.  
Val: Hurry up. 

“Eh,” Angel said, already resigned to the fact he’d have to go back to the studio tonight, “It’s late. I should go, anyway. Need my beauty sleep!” 

“Stay over, then,” Cherri shrugged. 

God, how much Angel wanted to throw his buzzing phone out the window and just cuddle up in Cherri’s bed with the donuts and Fat Nuggets. Knowing he wouldn’t be asked to run around the city at all hours of the night doing who knew what. Knowing he’d be safe. 

“Sorry, babe,” Angel said. He started leashing Fat Nuggets, now wishing they’d left the pig at the hotel. He loved his pet and he felt guilty about leaving the poor thing at the hotel alone all the time but he wasn’t so sure about bringing Nuggets to the studio. Valentino didn’t exactly have a great track record with pets. Or with anything. “Thanks for the fun night, though. It was great, as usual.” 

“Anytime, Angie,” Cherri replied, making Angel’s stomach twist again. Shit, he really wanted to stay… 

He took the leftover donut Cherri handed to him with a grin, teasing her, “Are ya spoilin’ me?” It was easier to joke than to just dump everything on his friend. Not to mention the still constant buzzing from Val’s texts in his pocket. 

Another nudge to his ribs, another hidden flinch as Cherri walked him and Fat Nuggets to the door. “Shut up. Text me when ya get home, okay?” Cherri requested. 

Angel saluted instead of giving a real answer. He had a feeling it’d be hours before he was actually home at the hotel, anyway, and he didn’t want to make Cherri stay up waiting for a simple “I’m home” text. 

Once he was finally out of view of Cherri’s place, Angel pulled out his phone. There were already twelve more angry texts from Valentino. Angel couldn’t help but roll his eyes – the guy needed to chill sometimes. 

Idly taking a bite out of the to-go donut Cherri had given him, Angel used his extra hands to type a reply to Val. 

Angel: On my way over now. Chill out.  
Val: Stop with the sass. 

The spider wasn’t looking forward to whatever nonsense Val needed from him tonight. All he wanted to do was sleep. He glanced at the donut in his hand, letting a small smile play over his face. Well, at least he’d gotten some fun time hanging out with Cherri. 

Carefully positioning the donut in front of his phone, he took a picture, meaning to post it to Voxtagram so he could have some actual photographic proof that there were some good people in his life. 

It was barely a minute after he posted it that a notification rung through. He dug for the phone, wondering if Cherri had seen it already and was commenting. When he opened the comment, though, it wasn’t from Cherri. It was just three words from Val. 

“Watch your weight.” 

Angel paused at that, looking at the donut in his hand, then looking back at the text. He knew Val was mad at him, but… 

He shook his head, no, he couldn’t let Val get to him like that. He was gangly for a reason – pole dancing and prostitution were pretty big workouts, let alone whatever shit they got him doing in his films. 

A spectre of a thought bit at him though. What if Val was right? He tried to wave the thought away, but it stuck there. He decided to send a screengrab to Cherri. 

Sure enough, moments later his friend replied with a positive statement about his body and basically telling Val to go fuck himself. It made Angel smile for a moment, but as the studio loomed in front of him, he couldn’t stop thinking about those three words. 

“What the fuck took you so long?” Val demanded. The moth lay sprawled on a red sofa in his office, smoking his usual cigar and glowering at Angel, who hovered in the doorway.  
Nearby, Vox, the television demon and also Val’s on-again-off-again boyfriend, fiddled with something at Val’s desk. Angel didn’t particularly like Vox – Val was a giant asshole, but Angel could handle that, more or less. Vox was something else completely. In Angel’s opinion, he was kind of a weirdo, and he and Val in cahoots together was always a bad sign. 

“Well I wasn’t fuckin’ expectin’ ya to text me again after I clocked out,” Angel said. “So whaddya want?” 

Valentino blew a smoke ring towards Angel, who moved aside to let it pass and dissipate. “I warned you about the sass. I need you to go out and grab some speakers.” 

Angel blinked slowly at that. “…Speakers?” 

“Yes, Angel,” Val spoke slowly, like he was talking to a child. The moth got up and went to Vox, putting an arm around the television’s shoulders, “When my baby sees something he wants, I don’t like him to wait too long.” 

If he hadn’t known for sure Val would fuck him up, Angel would have punched his boss right then and there. A fucking errand for speakers, that’s what Val wanted him to leave Cherri’s for?! 

The anger and frustration made his voice come out snappier than he intended it to. “Fuck it, fine, Val, I’ll go get the fuckin’ speakers even though it’s the middle of the damn night.” 

Val turned from Vox, giving him a frown at the tone of voice. “And Angel, I saw your post. Try not to stuff yourself with anymore shit, sugar – you’ve got a show at the end of the week, you know.” 

Speakers. Fucking speakers. 

Angel raged internally as he stormed towards the closest electronics place he could think of. Fat Nuggets seemed to notice his distress and oinked distractedly, tangling up his leash with Angel’s legs. Angel lifted the pig into his lower set of arms, but it didn’t do much to help. He was too pissed. 

Val really was punishing him. Angel had pretty much resigned himself to being contracted to the usual shit he did, but now the moth was definitely taking advantage. Val’s last barb had gotten to him, too. Stuff himself? It was half a donut, one and a half if you counted the one at Cherri’s. He didn’t see Val bothering himself with counting calories, the dick. 

Holding up the electronics store wasn’t nearly as fun as the donut store had been. For one, Cherri wasn’t there, and for two, Angel was too distracted and annoyed to really focus on it, just idly shooting until enough people ran away for him to grab the box with the speakers and make off. 

When Angel returned to the studio, Val’s office was empty. He must’ve gone somewhere with Vox, and Angel could pretty much guess what they were doing. He left the speakers on the desk and headed out. 

If Angel had been exhausted at the end of his shift, which now seemed like a million hours ago, now he was essentially a walking corpse – or, he would be if he weren’t already dead – but he could barely keep his eyes from drooping as he dragged himself into the hotel, practically crawling up the stairs. He unleashed Nuggets from the pig’s harness, then crashed face-first onto his bed, finally letting sleep take over. 

It seemed like it was only seconds later when a knock on his door startled him from out of sleep. He groaned, pulling a pillow over his head for a second before throwing it across the room. He liked Charlie, he did, but the princess’ enthusiasm, especially in the early morning hours, could get under his skin. 

He stomped to the door, yanking it open. “Jesus fuckin’ Christ, Charlie, you said official breakfast time wasn’t ‘til –“ Angel stopped when he realized it wasn’t the princess standing there, but Cherri. Well, that was unusual. His friend had stopped by the hotel before, of course, but not usually this early and usually snuck in through a window or something. He blinked, hoping nothing had gone wrong, “Cherri? You okay?” 

“I wanted to see if you were okay. After last night…” Cherri trailed off, and Angel realized he hadn’t remembered to answer her after her response text to Val’s comment. He smiled. 

“Oh. Aww. Come in, babe.” He pulled the door open so she could come in, dragging a bathrobe over himself. Not that Cherri would mind, she’d been to some of his strip shows, after all, but it felt good to have some kind of normalcy. 

Cherri said something about how she thought he might be upset after last night, and he shrugged it off. “Sticks and stones, babe. He’s said worse to me.” Which was true – but he also didn’t want to mention to Cherri he’d been dwelling on Val’s comment just yet. 

Angel’s eyes were drawn to a pink wrapped box in Cherri’s hand, and he allowed himself to feel a little positive again. Cherri often gave him little cheer up things, and Angel hated to admit it, but he was a sucker for gifts and presents. Figuring he could use a little pick-me-up now, he snatched the box from her. “That for me?” 

He ripped open the paper faster than Cherri could say anything, and immediately wished he hadn’t. Underneath the paper was a box of diet pills. For him. 

Angel felt like his heart was sinking into his stomach. He felt a little nauseous, although he wasn’t sure you could actually be sick in hell. All he felt was hurt, and clearly Cherri saw it in his eyes. 

“They’re not from me!” She insisted, holding up the tag that Angel had discarded. They were from Val. Of course they were from Val. 

Angel shook his head, now doubting himself, wondering why he would ever even for a second entertain the notion that Cherri would do something like that. When had he become this sensitive? 

Cherri mentioned that Charlie had allowed her to stay for breakfast, even though she wasn’t a resident. That was new, too. Charlie clearly wanted Angel to have a friend there, and that made Angel start to worry that they thought he was about to spiral. It worried him even more to consider that he didn’t actually know if he was going to or not. 

Still, he agreed to go down to breakfast with Cherri, sitting with the residents, staring at the spread Niffty had put out. He took a pancake since Cherri especially seemed to be invested in watching him eat something, but he still felt sick to his stomach, and he barely had time to put half the pancake in his mouth before his phone was buzzing again. 

Val: Got a client for you. Sending the car. Be ready in ten minutes.

Fuck. 

Cherri followed him to the courtyard, clearly worried. She was doing that thing where she kept pushing, silently begging him to tell her what was going on, but this time… he didn’t know why, but he just couldn’t. He knew she was already worried, and he didn’t want to worry her any more. That was why he hadn’t given her a real answer when she begged him to eat something real as he slid into the limo Val had sent for him. 

As the limo pulled away, Angel thought he caught a glimpse of Alastor talking to Cherri, but when he blinked, the flash of red was gone. 

As it turned out, the John that Val had sent Angel to wasn’t particularly hard to satisfy, which Angel was grateful for, as it allowed him to return to the hotel early. All he wanted to do was take a nap. What he didn’t want was to be assaulted by Vaggie, brandishing her phone, the minute he stepped into the lobby.

“Do you want to explain what this is?” She demanded. 

Angel looked from her to the phone she held. “Bitch, that’s your phone. Did ya forget?” 

“Not the phone, idiot!” Vaggie seethed, holding it closer to his face. On the screen was a grainy video from the previous night, showing Angel as he shot up the electronics store. “Look familiar? Do you want to explain how exactly ‘violently robbing’ fits into your redemption plan?!” 

Angel groaned, “Look, I’m fuckin’ exhausted, I wanna take a nap, and for your info, I didn’t exactly have a choice, okay?” 

Vaggie folded her arms. “The whole point of this hotel is that you do have a choice. And you made the wrong one, Angel. First the turf war, now this, and who knows what other stuff you’ve been doing that didn’t make it to video! If this sort of stuff keeps up, I – I might have to talk to Charlie about your continued stay here.” 

Angel regarded her coldly. “Have ya shown Charlie the video?” 

Vaggie looked away. “No…. not yet.” 

“Good.” Angel moved to get past her. 

“We just want you to try, Angel,” Vaggie said to his retreating back, and that made him stop and turn around. 

“Who says I’m not tryin’?” He headed upstairs before she could answer. 

Angel was almost there. He could practically hear his bed and his soft sheets calling to him as he walked down the hallway to his room – and let out a groan as he saw Alastor manifesting at the very end of the hallway like the creep he was. 

“What?!” Angel demanded. “What do ya people want from me? Why can’t ya just fuck off and lemme alone!” 

“My,” Alastor said, swinging his microphone idly as he made his way down the hallway towards Angel. “I was simply making my morning rounds of the hotel. Somebody seems to be in an awfully bad mood this morning. You know positivity starts from within, my friend.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Angel said, going for the handle of his door. “I definitely ain’t in the mood for that shit right now.” 

Alastor shrugged, “That dear little friend of yours seems awfully concerned about you.” 

“Yeah, well… Cherri’s… Cherri’s cool,” Angel said softly, then shook his head, “Why th’fuck am I still talking to you? Beat it, Smiles, you’re creepin’ me out.” He didn’t wait for Alastor to respond before slamming the door in the Radio Demon’s face and going straight for his bed. Finally. 

When he woke up, it was way too late – he’d obviously needed the sleep, but now he had several angry texts from Val asking where he was. It was thirty minutes past the time he was supposed to start his first shoot already, meaning he had to rush out the door without stopping in the kitchen first. Probably better, anyway – his stomach felt like a tense walnut. He’d grab something when he was done with work. 

The last person he expected to see on the sidewalk in front of the studio was Cherri. 

“Ey! Small world!” She grinned, seeing him, giving him finger guns. 

Despite how late he was, Angel paused. “Girl, I don’t usually see ya this much in a week, let alone two days! What’re ya doin’ out here?” 

“Somethin’ awesome,” Cherri grinned. “Guess what. I gotta way to get your contract from Val.” 

Angel’s eyes widened and he grabbed Cherri’s arm, yanking her into the studio with him, but instead of going through the lobby to the main elevator, he yanked her around a corner to a disused room that was mostly used as storage now. “What? What are ya talkin’ about?” 

“Made a deal with the creep,” Cherri said nonchalantly. “I get some info about Alastor, you get freed from your contract.” 

“Cherri…” Angel took a breath, “I mean this in the nicest way possible but – are ya completely fuckin’ psycho?! Have ya lost your goddamn mind?!” 

“He’s destroying you, Angie, I couldn’t sit back and watch –“ 

“I don’t care! I don’t care!” Angel was starting to panic. “Okay, maybe we can get ya outta it. Maybe Val’s in a good mood… shit, I’m late, he won’t be in a good mood…. We gotta find a way to get ya outta this, did ya sign anythin’?” 

“Angel –“ 

Angel grabbed Cherri by the shoulders, shaking her back and forth. “I said, did ya sign anythin’?!” 

“Well, yeah, but –“ 

“Fuck. Shit, fuck.” Angel scrubbed his hands through his hair, his mismatched eyes meeting Cherri’s single one. “This is bad, Cherri. Really, really bad.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks as always for reading! Feel free to comment if you wish :)


	3. The New Resident

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What, another chapter already? Well you see, my job has become ridiculously mind numbing ever since the pandemic became a thing so I'm enjoying having this fanfiction to at least think about while I work lol. Of course that means writing a bit faster! Long-ass chapter today but I had to get a lot of stuff in there!

“This is bad, Cherri. Really, really bad.” 

Cherri slapped Angel’s hands off where he was gripping her shoulders tightly. “Stop panicking, it’ll be fine.” 

“It won’t be fine!” Angel was really freaking out, the wideness of his eyes obvious to Cherri even in the gloom of the broom closet they were currently standing in. She could feel his chest heaving up and down as he panicked. 

“Dude, stop, really,” Cherri said, placing a hand on his arm, only for him to shake it off. 

“Cherri! Ya have _no idea_ what Val -- “ 

Angel froze and appeared to stop breathing for a second as a heavy stomp shook the floor above them, followed by a thundering roar, “Where the fuck is that whore?! He’s already an hour late! I swear to Lucifer, if that little shit doesn’t show up in the next five minutes…” Val’s voice trailed off as he stomped off somewhere too far for them to hear them. 

Cherri could feel Angel trying to take some deep breaths. She went for the door, only to have Angel pull her back. 

“Where the fuck are ya goin’?” The spider demanded. 

“He’s upstairs, I’m gonna go tell him to back the fuck off,” Cherri said, trying to go for the door again, and again getting blocked by Angel as he slipped in front of her to bar her path. 

“No ya fuckin’ ain’t,” Angel said. 

“Angel, move,” Cherri demanded, trying to get past him, struggling as he twisted and grabbed her arms, twisting them around in the broom closet to get her further from the door. 

“No!” 

“Angel!” 

She slapped at him, and he slapped back, the two engaging in a struggle either get to the door or block it, but in the end, Angel had more arms, and Cherri ended up caught as he used all four of them to pull her into a hug to keep her from moving toward the door again. 

“I’m gonna letcha go,” Angel said, “But don’t go for that fuckin’ door just yet.” 

Frustrated, Cherri nodded, and Angel let go. His face was serious – more serious than Cherri had ever seen before. “We’re gonna leave this room. You’re gonna go home. I’m gonna do whateva shit Val wants me to do today, and then I’ll be comin’ ova to your place, and we’re gonna figure out a way to getcha outta this. Okay?” 

“But –“ 

Angel held up a hand. “Nope. That’s how it’s gonna go.” 

Cherri frowned, about to argue again, but another pissed off roar from above changed her mind. She’d already made Angel later than he should’ve been, and she didn’t want to get her friend in more trouble. That was how this whole mess had even started. 

“Okay, fine,” Cherri muttered. 

Angel nodded, opening the closet door a crack and peeking out to make sure the coast was clear before gesturing for Cherri to come out. He pointed her to the door. “I’ll be fine,” he said when she hesitated. “I’ll see ya later.” 

He practically pushed her out the studio door before slamming it in her face. Cherri put her hands on her hips, looking up at the building. Something in the back of her brain told her that maybe she’d made a wrong decision, but she shook her head, shaking the thought away. It was to help Angel. That made it a right decision, no matter how much he might freak out about it. 

-

It was well past one in the morning when Cherri heard the quiet thump at her door. In fact, she hardly heard it at all, waking up from her half-doze and grabbing the television remote to pause whatever shitty movie she’d sort of been watching. She listened again, wondering if the noise had been had been from the movie. Nope, sure enough, a second later she heard it again, a soft little thump coming from her apartment door. 

When she opened the door, she found Angel Dust standing there. Well, standing was a strong word – more like using the wall to keep himself at somewhat of a vertical angle. One of his hands was still resting lightly on her door in the knocking position. 

“Yo,” Angel gave her an exhausted smile. “Aint’cha gonna invite me in?” 

“You could’ve just walked in, idiot,” Cherri said, grabbing one of Angel’s top arms and slinging it over her shoulder to help him get all the way in – because he was so much taller, it almost looked comical, especially because Angel continued to slump from the few steps between the door and the couch, until Cherri was practically carrying him on her back. 

She dumped him on the couch and took a step back, watching Angel stretch his legs to fill the sofa space. This sort of thing wasn’t new – Angel often didn’t want to go straight back to the hotel after filming, especially if it had been a particularly physically rough day. He would usually use Cherri’s place to clean himself up somewhat and have a little rest before heading back to the hotel. 

Cherri regarded him, noting how he slung one of his arms over his ribcage protectively, how the fur at the wrists of all four of his arms was matted down and in one of the wrists’ case, bleeding. 

“I dunno who’s tellin’ Val about all the new kinky shit out there, but I wish they’d take a break,” Angel chuckled softly, then sat up with a hiss. “Right. So, this contract thing with you and Val…” 

Cherri plopped down next to him. “Angie, you’re exhausted, we don’t have to do this right now.” 

“We do,” Angel insisted. “I’m sorry I yelled at ya before, I know ya were tryin’ ta help. But I don’t need helpin’, I made my bed when I fell down here and now I gotta lie in it.” 

Cherri folded her arms. “And so it’s different for me?” 

“Ya were tryin’ to help a friend, not bein’ selfish an’ greedy like me,” Angel gave her a small smile, “So yeah, it’s different, babe.” He ran a hand through his hair, “Tell me everythin’ about what you signed.” 

“It’s basically what I said,” Cherri told him, “I made a deal with Val to… to be a spy, essentially, I guess. It was the only thing I could offer him that interested him, really. Getting some dirt on Alastor. First report’s due in a week.” 

“A week?!” Angel groaned, “Cher, you forgot to mention that part. Shit. Did he say what’d happen if ya don’t deliver?” Cherri shook her head, and Angel sighed, “Prolly nothin’ good. I can try to work on him, but there ain’t no way we’re gonna get ya outta that contract by the end of this week.” 

“So what do we do?” 

Angel’s eyes narrowed, and he gave her a sharp grin. “We deliver.” 

-

The scream of excitement Charlie let out was so high-pitched that both Cherri and Angel had to cover their ears, giving each other a look. 

Vaggie came running into the hotel lobby at the sound of the scream, brandishing her spear between Angel and Cherri, as if trying to figure out who to shish kebab first. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?” 

“Wrong?” Charlie’s eyes were glistening – Cherri thought they might pop right out of the princess’ head they were growing so big. “Nothing’s wrong, Vaggie! Cherri’s signing up for the hotel!” 

Vaggie lowered her spear, eyeing Cherri suspiciously. “Really.” 

“This is so amazing,” Charlie gushed, pulling the cyclops demon into a tight hug. “I knew this would happen eventually! You’ve been working on her, huh, Angel?” 

“Uh… yep,” Angel said, not meeting Vaggie’s suspicious gaze. “She just couldn’t resist anymore.” 

“Omigosh,” Charlie said, “We have to get you a room, and – and – ooh! We should have a welcome dinner for you! That should be fun, right?” 

“Sounds great,” Cherri said slowly, “But probably room first, right? Yep, I’m tired from… all the paperwork I just signed right now. Angel should show me my room now.” 

She headed for the stairs, just to be stopped by Vaggie’s spear in her face. “Wait a minute,” the moth demon said, “You haven’t released your contraband yet.” 

Cherri folded her arms. “I didn’t bring any drugs or alcohol in. I never do when I visit.” 

“I’m not talking about that,” Vaggie said. “I’m talking about the bombs.” 

Cherri paused at that. “Wait, seriously? You never made me leave them before.” 

“You weren’t officially signed up before.” 

Cherri glanced back at Angel, who could only shrug. Cherri frowned. “No fuckin’ way.” 

“Then you aren’t going upstairs.” Vaggie folded her arms, immovable. 

Cherri teetered, grinding her teeth for a second, but another glance at Angel made her give in. They couldn’t move forward with their plan unless she was safely ensconced in the hotel. She reached into her pockets and other hidden places to pull out all the incendiary devices she had on her. 

“What’re you gonna do with ‘em?” Cherri demanded as Vaggie gathered the bombs into her arms. 

“Don’t worry, Cherri,” Charlie said, laying a hand on the other demon’s arm, “I’ll hold them in my office. Nothing bad will happen to them, I promise.” 

Cherri huffed. “Thanks.” 

“Is this everything?” Vaggie demanded, already teetering under the sheer amount of bombs Cherri had pulled out. 

“I think so,” Cherri said, smirking, “I’ll let ya know if I shit one out in the morning, though. Can I see my room now?” 

“I’ll show you,” Angel said, stepping between Charlie and Vaggie to lead the way to the stairs, putting an arm around Cherri to guide her. She glanced back under his arm to see Charlie helping Vaggie carry the bombs away. She couldn’ be sure, but she thought she heard Vaggie muttering something about “can’t be trusted.” 

“That girl always so high-strung?” Cherri asked as they made their way up. 

“Eh, y’know Vaggie,” Angel said. “More suspicious than a long-tailed cat inna room fulla rockin’ chairs.” 

“Is she gonna be a problem?” 

“She’s always a fuckin’ problem,” Angel muttered, then shook his head, “Nah. She just cares about not fuckin’ up the hotel’s rep anymore. She won’t catch wind of what we’re doin’, but it won’t matter if she does.” 

They reached a landing, and Angel went to the first door next to the staircase, pushing it open. “Your suite, madame.” 

Cherri stepped in, taking a look around. The only occupied room she’d ever been in at the hotel was Angel’s, and he’d certainly wasted no time making it his own. This was the first she’d seen that was decorated in the standard way for possible guests. 

It actually wasn’t bad, she thought as she opened the door to check out the en-suite bathroom. A plush wine colored carpet led up to a massive bed with soft-looking sheets and a duvet in a similar color scheme – Cherri thought she even saw some hints of gold thread detailing the pillows. Two simple oak dressers were fitted against one wall, in between which hung a floor length mirror where Angel was currently checking himself out. 

“Okay,” Cherri said, flopping onto the bed – man, the duvet was soft – “Well, we got through step one.” 

Angel turned from the mirror to look at her. “Y’know, I know we’re just doin’ this so you can get closer to Alastor but I’m kinda happy you’re here, besides. It’ll be nice to have a friend around.” 

Cherri gave him a soft smile, “Aren’t these guys your friends too?” 

Angel looked unsure at that. “Eh… well… anyway. Charlie said she’s throwin’ a welcomin’ dinner for ya, that’ll be perfect. Alastor can’t resist dinner parties, he’s made us have like three already. So we know he’ll be busy wit’ that – and that’ll give ya time to get into his office and see if there’s anythin’ we can give Val.” 

“Whoa, wait,” Cherri said. “Sneak into the Radio Demon’s office? Like – the place that – Angel! I can’t do that! If he finds out he’ll eat me!” 

“He ain’t gonna eat ya,” Angel said. “If we do it right he’ll never even know. Believe me, it won’t be worse than whateva Val’s got planned if ya fail, and that I can guarantee’ll be bad.” 

Cherri rubbed at her arms, her usual confidence starting to fade away a little bit. Why had she promised the Radio Demon of all people to Valentino? Alastor was one of the few things in Hell that really, truly freaked her out, and she was already imagining all of the terrible things he was going to do to her if he caught her rifling through his stuff. 

“Man,” Cherri rested her chin on her fist. “I didn’t think this would get so out of control so fast.” 

“Story of my life, Toots,” Angel said. 

They both jumped as a knock pounded on the door, followed by Niffty’s voice, “Miss Cherri Bomb? Is your friend Angel Dust in there? Al told me to tell you everyone is coming down for the dinner party! Oh and dinner’s almost ready! Oh, and it’s Niffty, by the way!” 

“We’re comin’, babe,” Angel shouted through the door. 

Cherri took a breath, reminding herself why she was doing this in the first place – if she succeeded, her friend would be free. That would be worth it. She smiled, showing sharp teeth to Angel. “Show time.” 

-

For the second time that day, Cherri was assaulted by Charlie’s enthusiasm the minute she stepped through the door of the dining area. 

“Oh, Cherri! There you are!” Charlie was grinning so hard Cherri was kind of impressed – it looked like it might hurt. “Do you like your room? You can do anything to modify it to your tastes, I know you’ve seen what Angel’s done with his!” 

“Yeah, it’s great, thanks,” Cherri said, plopping down in a seat across from Angel, next to Husk, who looked her up and down but didn’t say anything. 

Niffty zoomed down the table, tossing out dishes and glassware to everyone – her aim was amazing, and Cherri wondered what the little demon would be able to do with a switchblade rather than a fork. 

“Where’s Alastor?” Charlie asked, twisting around in her seat as if counting the number of the demons assembled, despite the fact there were barely enough of them to even take up one corner of the massive dining table. 

“Probably finishing up a broadcast,” Husk muttered, grabbing one of the jugs on the table and peering into it, putting it back in disgust, “Y’know how he likes to make an entrance.” 

Cherri shivered – she’d heard one broadcast of Alastor’s once and that was more than enough for her. She wondered what insane thing he was broadcasting about this time, and once again she felt a bite of fear as she remembered what the plan actually was for the evening. 

“Au contraire, my hungover friend!” Alastor said from the doorway, holding a silver tureen in his hands. “I do quite enjoy a dramatic entrance, but this very evening I so happened to be assisting our little darling Niffty here with our main course for the evening!” 

Cherri almost barfed. They were going to eat something the cannibal demon made? And everyone seemed okay with it?! She tried to catch Angel’s eye, but he was looking at Alastor, and didn’t seem particularly concerned that the tureen he held might be full of people parts. 

“Oh, Alastor, you cooked?” Charlie clasped her hands together in delight. “That’s amazing! How exciting!” 

“Not quite so amazing, my dear, as the apparent talent sweet little Niffty has for getting spices exactly right!” Alastor said, his already wide grin widening further as he spotted Cherri. “Well, well, well, what have we here, another guest among us this fine evening?” 

“Not a guest!” Charlie said excitedly, before Cherri could say anything. “Cherri’s a resident now! She signed up for the hotel!” 

Alastor’s eyebrows raised until they almost disappeared into his fluffy hair. “Oh, really now?” 

Cherri jumped and had to bite back a shriek as Alastor disappeared and reappeared right next to her, “Congratulations, my dear! Such tremendous news for our dear optimistic princess! Of course it’s rather like attempting to board the Titanic after it hit the iceberg, but I commend you for trying, ha ha!” 

Alastor cocked his head, looking over the group. “Of course, a new addition to this little doomed family is a special occasion! And this –“ he gestured to Cherri’s tank top, “Simply will not do. No, no, no. A proper special occasion should be dressed for!” 

He snapped his fingers, and in an instant, the little group’s clothes had changed to something Cherri had only seen on the covers of Southern romance novels. She looked down at herself, grimacing when she realized she was wearing a dress – she didn’t really like to do dresses, even when she was alive. The one Alastor had apparently picked for her was deep red and off the shoulder, with black trim around the top and bottom. When she looked closer, she noticed little bombs and cherries were embroidered into the black lace. Huh – well, at least the Radio Demon had a sense for detail. 

“Dammit, Al, not again!” Angel said, and Cherri looked over at him – her friend was now decked out in a light pink 1920’s era-looking suit and tie. Cherri didn’t think she’d ever actually seen Angel in clothes specifically designed for men – Angel pulled it off, just like he pulled off everything he wore, but it did make him look out of place. “I fuckin’ told ya I don’t like this suit and tie shit! Eugh…at least it’s pink. Geez.” 

“Are ya gonna fuckin’ show us what we’re supposed to be eatin’ tonight or are ya gonna make us do a fashion show?” Husk growled. The cat was also now wearing a pinstriped suit, but his was in black. “No!” He said, pointing at Angel when the spider opened his mouth excitedly. 

“Why Husker, where are your manners?” Alastor said. “The ladies of the table must, of course, be served first!” He strode down the table, starting with Cherri. He ladled something from the tureen into her bowl before turning to serve Charlie. 

Cherri looked down. It was red, and for a split second she thought it must be blood, before the rich scent of spices, garlic, and peppers hit her. When she looked closer, she also saw shrimp, rice, and what looked like sausage floating around. The sausage was the most suspicious part, but when she looked down the table, she saw even Vaggie was trying a mouthful, which encouraged her a bit. 

“Yes, quite fortuitous that you would join us tonight, darling Cherri,” Alastor said, “Gumbo takes many hours to prepare, and I don’t always have the wherewithal to attempt it.” He finished serving everyone and sat at the opposite head of the table, across from Charlie. “Well everyone, as they say in the bayou, _manje_!” 

As the evening went on, Cherri was surprised to find she was enjoying herself. It wasn’t that she thought she’d be miserable at the hotel, but – well – she didn’t know what she’d been expecting, actually. It was nice, though, sitting at the table with Angel and the other hotel residents, talking about this or that, laughing, comparing decades that they’d died, and enjoying the gumbo Alastor had made. 

It was easy to forget why she was there. Until Angel gently kicked her under the table with his long-ass leg, giving her a significant look and bringing her crashing back to reality. Right. Charming as he was, Alastor was still the Radio Demon, a cannibalistic Overlord of Hell, and now both she and Angel were under unbreakable contracts until she got something good on Alastor. 

She faked a big yawn. “Well, this has been great everybody – Alastor – but I’m stuffed and I think maybe it’s about time for bed.” 

“Ah, of course, though it’s such a shame to end a pleasant evening so early,” Alastor said. “When I was still flesh and blood, it was quite common for the gentlemen – and ladies, if they wished – to retire to the parlor after a good meal to play billiards or cards or some such. Just to keep the evening going a bit longer.” 

Cherri kicked Angel back under the table – this was their chance! 

Luckily, Angel got the hint and turned to Alastor, widening his eyes in a flirtatious manner. “I dunno about pool as we ain’t got no table, but I saw a chess board in the lounge, there, Al. I’d be happy to play wit’ ya a bit.” 

Did Alastor actually seem… nervous? No, Cherri thought, that couldn’t be right. Trick of the light, probably. 

“Ahem, if you would like to, yes, of course, Angel Dust,” Alastor said, looking around, “Would anybody else like to retire to the lounge as well?” 

Vaggie and Charlie were both yawning, and Husk shook his head. “Gotta get back to the bar.” 

“Looks like it’s just me an ya, Al,” Angel smiled, getting up, looking like he was about to take the Radio Demon’s arm and rethinking it, “I promise I won’t bite ya. ‘Less ya ask me to.” 

“Ha! You’re such a kidder, Angel Dust,” Alastor said. “Shall we? If none of the rest of you should like to join us, that is.” 

Nobody answered, as people were already starting to filter out, back to the rooms, or bars, or wherever. 

“C’mon, then, Al,” Angel said, leading the way to the door at the opposite end of the room that led to the lounge, “That ol’ chessboard’s a-waitin’.” 

Cherri waited until she was sure Alastor and Angel were completely out of view in the lounge before leaving the dining room, nearly bumping into Charlie who was sleepily making her way to the stairs, her head resting on Vaggie’s shoulder. 

“Night, Cherri,” Charlie yawned, “I hope you had a good first night! Get some rest, and we’ll go over your redemption plan tomorrow!” 

“Yeah, okay – wait, redemption plan?!” Cherri demanded, but Charlie and Vaggie were already too far up the stairs to hear – either that, or they were ignoring her. Not for the first time, Cherri thought her impulsiveness might’ve sunk her a little too deep. 

But if she was already at the bottom of the sea floor, she had nowhere to go but up. 

Glancing back at the lounge, Cherri made sure the door was shut before creeping around the back of the stairs. Charlie’s office was right in the front of the lobby of the hotel, accessible to all who wanted it, but, according to Angel’s directions, Alastor’s was further back, behind the stairs, hidden from common view. 

He apparently didn’t keep the door locked, as it popped right open when Cherri tried it. She thought that was a bit odd, and made a note of it in the back of her mind. Whatever she had been expecting, it wasn’t something so… ordinary. 

The space was barely bigger than a broom closet, most of the room taken up by a very plain wooden desk, on top of which rested an old radio and microphone. Cherri had to wonder what the microphone was for, since Alastor seemed to carry one around all the time, but that didn’t seem worthy or weird enough to bring to Val as information. 

Nothing else decorated the space, and Cherri cursed as she realized this getting information on Alastor stuff might be harder than she originally realized. She decided to pull open the drawers of the desk, just in case, and paused when she found one locked. Interesting – the guy didn’t lock his door, but he did lock one desk drawer? 

She wasted no time pulling a pin from her hair and unlocking the drawer, tossing the pin away. A small, leather bound journal sat in the center of the drawer, and Cherri couldn’t suppress a smile. Bingo. 

Grabbing the diary, she carefully closed the drawer – she didn’t know how long Angel could keep Alastor entertained for, but she wasn’t going to waste any more time in here that she didn’t have to. She could look at the diary on her own later and see if there was anything worth giving to Val. 

Cherri exited the office, closing up the door again and making a break for the stairs. She thought she’d gotten away scot-free, one foot on the staircase, when she was interrupted by a voice. 

“Whatch’a got there?” 

Cherri slowly turned around, plastering what she hoped looked like a genuine smile on her face. Husk leaned on his bar with one arm, giving her a look. 

“It’s a diary,” Cherri said. Well, that part was true, at least. 

“Your diary?” 

“Yep.” Okay, so now she was lying. It wasn’t like she had a choice! 

Husk surveyed her silently, and Cherri fidgeted awkwardly, trying to figure out if he knew something. Was he fucking with her? Right before the moment grew too long, Husk shrugged his wings. “Eh. Never much for journaling myself. Princess’ll be happy you’re tryin’ it, though. She’s always askin’ us to do it.” 

“Oh, I’ll – I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks,” Cherri said. “G’night.” 

Husk grunted something that somewhat sounded like words, and Cherri let out a huge breath as she dashed up the stairs. She was in the hotel. She had the diary. Now she just had to hope the little book contained something good enough to give Val.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like Alastor's clothes-beam powers and want him to do it more, heh heh.  
> Sometimes I think I should've called this story Angel and Cherri - A Story of Two Well Meaning Idiots :P  
> Anyway, I hope nobody's too OOC so far -- I figure this doesn't take place too long after the turf war thing, meaning everyone is still slightly suspicious of each other at the hotel.  
> Next time... Angel's POV, and more Alastor!  
> As always, thanks for reading and feel free to comment if you wish!


	4. The Chess Game and The Threat

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again! I hope the frequency I'm posting on this story hasn't become annoying. I've just never had a story fall out of me so fast like this before! This chapter did get a little darker than I originally intended it to, TW for implication of non-con but nothing graphic.

“I must say, Angel Dust, I was quite surprised when you suggested the chess board as entertainment for the evening,” Alastor said as he strode into the lounge, spinning his microphone idly before choosing a seat on one of the sofas. 

“Why?” Angel smirked, bending over to grab the board from under one of the coffee tables, “Ya prolly think I’m too stupid ta wanna play chess? Or know how?” 

“Quite the contrary, my fellow,” Alastor said, “Indeed, I do not think any of the residents here are particularly lacking in intelligence. If they were, this silly hotel experiment would have failed immediately, and my wish for entertainment would hardly have been fulfilled.” 

“…S’that a compliment?” Angel asked, raising an eyebrow, “I can neva tell with ya.”

“It certainly isn’t an insult, to you nor to our dear princess,” Alastor said, watching Angel set up the board. “Of course… speaking of insults, I must say, back in New Orleans, it is considered quite the insult to not finish a meal thoughtfully cooked and provided by your host.” 

Angel huffed a small laugh, finishing setting up the pieces and spinning the board so the black pieces faced Alastor. “Funny that, it’s kinda an insult in Italian families too. I wasn’t trynna to insult ya, Al, at least not this time. Boss man just wants me to drop a few pounds, that’s all.” 

“I… see…” Alastor raised an eyebrow, not dropping his grin, but his eyes did drop to Angel’s lengthy frame. It was clear he didn’t actually understand at all. Suddenly feeling self-conscious, Angel wrapped his lower arms around his middle. 

“White goes first, right?” Angel said, hastily grabbing one of the pawns to move it forward. 

“Does your boss often make these sorts of demands?” Alastor asked, taking his time surveying the board. 

Angel didn’t answer that. Instead, he said, “Y’know, I can’t say I woulda chosen this suit thing for myself, but I gotta give ya props for at least rememberin’ the extra arms.” 

“I believe it ‘suits’ you,” Alastor said, throwing his head back and laughing uproariously at his own joke, leaving Angel to make an irritated face at him. “Oh dear, I am such a gas sometimes,” Alastor sighed, finally moving one of his own pawns. “And I am sorry if it was not to your taste, but I did try to make it pink. That is your favorite color, is it not?” 

“Yeah. Always has been. Definitely harder to hide now that it’s parta my whole… self,” Angel laughed a little, gesturing to one of the pink spots in his hair. 

“Hide?” 

“Well I don’t gotta now, but obviously when I was alive. Y’know, it’s not like it was real cool for a mafia son to be likin’ pink.” 

“Hm… it’s your move, you know.” 

“I know, ya don’t gotta rush me, I’m thinkin’!” 

Alastor leaned back into the sofa, crossing his legs. “When I was a young lad, pink was quite a common color for boys. I am not really sure when the shift was made.” 

Angel had been hesitantly reaching for one of his knights, but that made him look up. “Oh, yeah?” 

“Mm, yes, indeed. Pink was considered quite the masculine color. A lighter version of the more powerful red acceptable for men. Which, of course, I am partial to.” 

Angel scoffed, taking one of Alastor’s pawns, making the Radio Demon sit forward again to check out the board, “Too bad ya couldn’t time travel and tell my Pops that.” 

“Would it have changed anything?” 

“I dunno,” Angel said, sitting back to let Alastor make his move. “Prolly not. I still woulda been gay.” 

Something shifted in Angel’s chest as he waited for Alastor to do something. Why was his tongue so loose all of a sudden? He wasn’t usually this open with anyone, except for Cherri, and sometimes not even her. Not to mention, he didn’t even like Alastor, and he had been pretty sure the Radio Demon hated him after the Five Foot Rule had been established. He knew he was buying time for Cherri, but he could’ve done that by just playing the chess game, he didn’t need to babble like an idiot at the same time! 

His stomach grumbled, and he put his forehead on his knees, wishing it would just shut up. But of course, Alastor heard it. Damn those stupid deer ears. “Still hungry, my friend?” 

“No,” Angel muttered into his knees. “Ya make your move yet?” 

“I am still thinking. And I believe Niffty had plenty of leftovers.” 

“I’m good.” 

“I have often wondered if demons can starve to death in Hell. I don’t think they can. But I am sure the process would be very unpleasant regardless.” 

Angel peeked over his knees to glare at Alastor. “I ain’t starvin’, dumbass, I’ve lost weight for Val before. It’ll even itself out soon.” 

“If you say so.” Alastor moved a bishop, and Angel straightened up to check out his options. He hoped he’d bought enough Cherri enough time… and again felt that weird twist in his chest. Stealing Alastor’s private things… 

He shook his head. They didn’t have a choice, and they both knew it. 

“I hadn’t known you were in the mafia,” Alastor said. 

“Why’dya think I’m down here, Smiles?” Angel said. Could he move his knight there? No, then Alastor’s bishop could take it… 

“I assumed it was the prostitution.” 

Angel’s face pulled into a frown, and he looked up. “The mafia stuff I can see, that’s a buncha fucked up shit I did and now I’m payin’ for it. But it’s not like they give ya an itemized list when ya fall down here. If prostitution is parta my sentence, then that’s real fuckin’ stupid.” 

Alastor blinked. His usual grin remained in place, but if Angel squinted, he thought he could see a hint of confusion. “Prostitution is considered a sin too, I believe.” 

“Yeah, well, it shouldn’t be!” Angel didn’t mean to raise his voice, it just happened. “I don’t get what’s so bad about – about likin’ and wantin’ sex, if everyone’s consentin’ to everythin’, why should it matter if ya get paid too? People gotta make a livin’ however they can.” Angel’s stomach rumbled again, and he clenched his fists, getting to his feet. 

“And I’ll tell ya somethin’ else, Mista ‘back in my day’, ya oughtta know very well that back then if ya were gay, that was the only way ya could get it sometimes! So what’s the sin, then? The sex, the gettin’ paid, or the bein’ gay? ‘Cause none ‘a those are sins in my book.” He frowned, looking down, seeing Alastor was about to put him in check mate on the board. 

“Fuck this,” Angel muttered, hoping Cherri had gotten what she needed and gotten clear by now, “I’m out.” 

“It’s rather ungentlemanly to leave before a game is officially completed,” Alastor said from his spot on the couch. 

Angel paused near the door, barely turning his head over his shoulder to respond, “Ya, well, I ain’t a gentleman, I’m a piece ‘a shit, as ya’ll in here like ta keep remindin’ me. You’re ‘bout to win anyway. So fuck it. Ya win, congratulations, fuck off.” 

As soon as Angel was out of the lounge and had one foot on the stairs, he started feeling a little guilty. A lot of people assumed he’d been sent to Hell for the prostitution thing, and Alastor had actually been behaving himself for once, no barbs or loaded comments about Angel’s profession. 

The spider sighed as he continued on to his room, his stomach still rumbling. Despite what he’d told the deer demon, he was hungry, and it was making him grouchy. He just had to get to Friday, do his stupid show that Val had booked, and then hopefully the moth would forget about Angel’s weight and just leave him the hell alone. 

Something else was bugging him, too. His conversation with Alastor had dredged up thoughts that Angel had long buried and tried not to think about, because if he thought about them too hard, he started to panic. 

Who exactly made up the rules of what was a sin and what wasn’t? Charlie was the damn heir to the throne of Hell and even she didn’t seem to exactly know. Some stuff was obvious, murder, rape, really bad shit, that was obvious – it was the less obvious, morally gray stuff that bothered Angel. If Charlie even managed to redeem him from his mafia sins (something Angel had high doubts about, anyway) who was to say that whoever was in charge of that stuff couldn’t just point to something else, like who he was as a person? It wasn’t like he could just stop being gay. He’d learned that one the hard way. 

He felt his stomach flip-flop, signaling that he was starting to spiral down a very dangerous thought process again. He took a breath, opening the door to his room and picking up Fat Nuggets, cuddling the pig for a moment while he calmed down. 

Angel felt his phone go off in his pocket, and he let his pet down on the bed, reaching for it, feeling some relief when he saw Cherri’s name on the text. They’d agreed they wouldn’t visit each other’s rooms too much in the off-hours to avoid suspicion, but they could still communicate by phone. He opened the text, looking at the photo she’d sent him. A small diary, bound in leather. Presumably Alastor’s diary. Interesting – Alastor didn’t seem the journaling type to Angel. 

A few more photos came through, this time with some of the pages open. There didn’t seem to be any words on the pages. Instead, there was a lot of scribbling of shit Angel didn’t understand – spiky graphs, what appeared to be runes, maybe radio frequencies? All of the scribblings were light, faded with age against yellowing pages. Angel tipped the phone back and forth, trying to make sense of any of it, but none of it made sense. He vaguely wondered if it had something to do with Alastor’s powers, or if Alastor really was just a crazy man and these were crazy scribblings. 

He shot a quick text back to Cherri telling her they’d regroup and deal with it in the morning. As he went over to his vanity mirror to get ready for bed, the diet pills Cherri had tossed away caught his eye, still in the trash can. He took them out, staring at them. Stupid Val and his goddamn impossible standards. Angel went to toss them back into the trash, then hesitated and stuck them in his vanity drawer instead. Never knew when things could come in handy, after all. 

\----

Angel woke up to an insistent buzzing right against his left ear. He forced his eyes to blink open against the heavy drag of sleep, fumbling around for his phone that he’d apparently dropped on his pillow after passing out while scrolling. 

Val’s name was at the top of the phone, but it wasn’t a text, it was actually ringing. That wasn’t good. Val only called when he either wanted something right fucking now, or if he was pissed. Or both. 

Angel hesitantly answered, trying to make his voice sound less sleepy. “Hello?” 

“Still asleep, Angel Cakes?” Val’s voice said on the other end. He didn’t wait for Angel to answer, “Get your ass over to the studio. Now. Car should be outside already.” 

Angel slid out of bed and peeked out the window. Sure enough, Val’s distinctive limo was parked outside. “Right, yes, Val. Er… everythin’ okay, boss?” 

“Just get over here.” Val hung up.

Angel banged his head against the glass of the window for a second before dragging himself over to the closet to pull on his usual clothes. While he did that, he used his second set of arms to text Cherri and tell her he had to do some work for Val this morning, and to make excuses for him at the breakfast table for the others. 

Angel: And don’t do anythin stupid wit that journal til I get back   
Cherri: I never do anything stupid :) Take care of yourself Angie, I’ll be fine here. Princess said something about going over a redemption plan anyway. Ew.   
Angel: Ew. 

The interaction put a smile on Angel’s face, at least for the moment, but it quickly evaporated when he made it downstairs to see Alastor in the lobby, apparently checking out some of the paintings hanging on the wall. Shit, he’d hoped nobody would be up yet. 

“Off to make your noble place in the world’s oldest profession once more?” Alastor asked, not turning, but Angel could see his stupid grin reflected in the glass frame of the painting. “How consistent of you.” 

“Shut the fuck up,” Angel said. “If I eva wasn’t in the mood…” 

Alastor did turn then. “You are the one who was so adamant about your chosen line of work not being a proper sin. So one would think you wouldn’t be so abrasive when one brings it up.” 

“One might be askin’ for a good pop in the head,” Angel growled, but jumped as the car honked outside. Ah, shit, now he was late. Fucking Alastor. “Just… shut up,” Angel said lamely, before turning on his heel to stride to the car, his stomach already in knots. First Alastor bugging him, and now he got to spend the car ride wondering what the hell Val wanted. 

He decided to distract himself by scrolling through his phone, and then immediately wished he didn’t. From the look of things based on what Val had posted, he and Vox were back together. Angel hadn’t known they’d broken up again, but considering it seemed to happen every five minutes, he wasn’t surprised. This was bad though – if Val was a nightmare when he and Vox were broken up, it wasn’t anything compared to when he and Vox were newly back together. Again. 

Val had Angel’s contract, and definitely used him like a toy, but Vox seemed to be particularly invested in tormenting Angel. The spider didn’t know if it was jealousy, or psychosis, or what, but whenever Val was in his lovey-dovey we-just-got-back-together phase with the Television Demon, he was usually willing to do whatever he wanted to make Vox happy, at least for a little while. And that usually involved some unpleasantness for Angel, who always seemed to be trapped in the middle of it. 

Once Angel got to the studio, he stood outside Val’s door, his hand hovering over the doorknob. He just couldn’t bring himself to do it, to open the door. He took some breaths, trying to push down the panic. He was a professional. He could do this, whatever ‘this’ happened to be. He just had to get through and get back to the hotel. 

“I can hear you out there, Angel Cakes,” Val said. “Get your ass in here already. Voxxy’s getting impatient.” 

Angel swallowed and pushed the door open. Sure enough, Vox was spread out on Val’s couch, the moth nuzzled up next to him with his arm around him. Just the sight of it made Angel want to puke, but he pushed it down, going with a sassy smile instead. “So. What can I do for ya?” 

\---

It was the after that Angel hated the most. Not that he particularly enjoyed being bent over Val’s desk for a few hours while his boss and his boss’ boyfriend did what they liked, but he could handle that. It was, after all, his job. He could separate his consciousness and be somewhere else while Vox and Valentino had their fun. But after… after was always a shit show. 

Val liked to sit at his desk, Vox on his lap, surveying Angel as if the spider was a worm he’d crushed with his shoe, and go over what they’d just done, like a play by play, telling Angel what he’d done well and what he could do better. After all, if he could do it well for Val, he could do it well for his films, and of course Val needed to test his own product.   
Apparently today, Val wasn’t satisfied with Angel’s work at all. Angel sat on the couch, head down, fingers clutching the cushions while Val ran down everything that was wrong with Angel and why he’d failed. Vox stayed perched on Val’s lap, smirking at the dressing down. Suddenly, Val pushed the television demon off him, standing up. 

“I’m disappointed in you, Angie,” Val said, crossing the room and running a hand through Angel’s damp bangs. Angel didn’t look up. 

“M’sorry, Val. I – I’ll do betta next time.” 

Val looked down at him, and shook his head. “You’re such a little piece of shit.” 

“Wh-what?” Angel looked up at that, surprised. 

“Don’t answer back,” Val said, holding up a threatening hand. Angel shut his mouth. The moth sighed, putting his arms behind his back, crossing back to his desk where Vox had taken up his seat. He turned back to Angel, leaning on the desk. 

“Ever since you went to that fucking hotel you’ve been playing the ‘poor me victim’ card,” Val said. “I’ve given you everything. I made you famous. And how do you pay me back? With poor performance, sass, and almost dragging my good name through the dirt on city-wide news!” 

“I didn’t – I wasn’t –“ 

“I told you not to answer back!” Val roared, launching himself towards the couch and aiming a punch towards Angel. 

The spider’s instincts kicked in and he ducked, scrambling under Val’s legs, popping up behind him. Angel didn’t have a plan, and the split hesitation fucked him over as wires wrapped around his four arms from behind him and yanked him back against Vox. He struggled, but Vox was an Overlord for a reason – the wires were strong. 

“Thank you, Voxxy,” Val sighed, striding up so he was almost nose to nose with Angel. 

“Of course,” Vox answered. Angel couldn’t twist to see the expression on the television, but he could almost hear the smirk. 

“And the worst of it all,” Val continued, as if nothing had just happened, “Is now you’re sending your little friends to fight your battles?” Angel froze in his struggles at the mention of Cherri. Val saw it, and raised an eyebrow. 

“She signed a contract, you know. Did she tell you that? Rather stupid of her, really…” Val said. “But then again, she did decide to be best friends with you, so maybe she’s not the smartest in the box, hm?” 

“Val,” Angel panted, “Please… listen… I – I can get ya that stuff she promised ya about Alastor, but she didn’t know what she was doin’, I swear I didn’t ask her to do it, I swear I can do it if ya let her outta the contract…” 

“Let her out of the contract, let him out of the contract, you two sound like broken records,” Val said. “You have no sense, Angel Cakes, never have. If she delivers like she said she would on Friday, I might consider letting her out. Maybe. Depends what she gets. If not, I’m sure I can find a good use for her. But you…” Val grasped Angel’s chin, forcing him to look up. “You’re never getting out of yours, baby. There’s nothin’ she can get me that’s as valuable as you are.” 

Angel struggled again, wanting to launch himself at the moth. “So you lied to her?!” 

“Gotta do what you can to get ahead, Angie, that’s what you’ve never gotten through your thick fucking head,” Val said. “And I still want whatever she can get me on that fucking Radio Demon, whether you help her or not. If you breathe a word to her about what I said, I’ll kill you. Got that?”

Angel stopped struggling, just staring at his boss. Val nodded. “Good. Glad that’s settled.” He started heading for the door. “Have fun, Voxxy, but don’t fuck him up too much, he’s got a show on Friday. I’ll see ya later, I got shit to do.” 

“Wait… Val – VAL!” 

The last thing Angel saw was the office door shutting behind Val, the moth not looking back once. 

\---

The afternoon was almost over by the time Angel was able to drag himself back to the hotel. Normally, when it was this bad, he’d go straight to Cherri’s to get himself a little more fixed up and presentable before returning to the hotel, but now with Cherri staying at the hotel as well, he couldn’t do that. He just hoped to whatever higher power there was that everyone at the hotel would be busy and not ask any questions. 

He was limping heavily, bleeding at three out of four wrists, the fourth one dangling uselessly. Not to mention the electrical burns. Or the swollen eye. Or the patches of missing fur. Man, when Vox got rough he really got rough. What a psycho. Angel had a feeling that the recent more hardcore stuff he’d been doing in his scenes lately was coming directly at Vox’s suggestions. 

Luck was not on Angel’s side, in his opinion, as Husk spotted him the moment he stumbled through the door. 

“Whoa, kid, what the fuck happened?!” Husk stared at him from behind the bar.

“Oh, y’know, usual work shit,” Angel muttered, trying to summon a flirty smile, but he was so damn exhausted. 

“Work shit my ass, ya look like ya got jumped,” Husk said, “That little friend of yours was just here, I’ll get ‘er, okay, just sit here.” 

Angel couldn’t really argue, wanting to get off his feet anyway, so he happily slumped onto a bar stool while Husk hurried off to look for Cherri. He winced as he heard a scream from behind him – no guessing who that was. What was this, everyone stare at Angel Dust Day? He turned to face Charlie and Vaggie, again mustering a smile. “Yo.” 

Charlie held her hands in front of her mouth in horror – even Vaggie looked concerned. “Oh, Angel, what happened?” 

“It ain’t really that bad,” Angel insisted as Husk came hurrying back with Cherri following behind, “Kinda par for the course these days, babe.” 

Cherri leaned forward, checking him over, letting go when he hissed at her touching his broken wrist. She lowered her voice, whispering, “Angie – do they not know about… y’know… Val?” 

Angel just shook his head. That was why he usually used Cherri’s place to heal up a bit before he went back to the hotel – too many questions. The hotel denizens definitely knew Valentino was his boss, but he went out of his way to make sure they didn’t know how bad it could get. Until now. 

Cherri let out a deep sigh, then nodded, her face hardening a little as she switched modes and took charge, looking around at the little group clumped around Angel’s bar stool. “Well? What are all of ya standing there for? His wrist is obviously broken, dipshits, go get some bandages or some shit! And some hot water, and aspirin, if ya got it.” 

Angel just watched, in a daze, as the little group converged on him, fussing over him while Husk stabilized his wrist, Charlie and Vaggie checked out his burns and wrapped them, Cherri staying by his side and putting her arm around his shoulders as a comfort. 

“Where… where’s Alastor?” Angel managed thickly. He was sure he could see the Radio Demon’s tell-tale shadow looming above them on the wall, and was wondering why the deer wasn’t just joining them to mock him about the dangers of his profession. 

“He went to the Radio Tower for the day,” Charlie said, distracted by wrapping the burn on Angel’s arm. 

“Oh…” Angel blinked, and the shadow he’d been sure he’d seen was gone. Was he getting delirious? 

“Niffty, can you go and make sure Angel’s bed is made up?” Charlie asked when she saw the little demon scurry by. Niffty nodded and raced away. “You should get some rest,” Charlie said. “You’ve obviously been through… something.” 

Angel’s thoughts were too much, too heavy. He felt acid rising in his empty stomach, making it roll. Val’s words weighed on him, the afternoon with Vox weighed on him, the journal hidden upstairs in Cherri’s room weighed on him, even the kindness the hotel residents were showing him weighed on him. What would they think if they knew what he’d been doing? It was to help Cherri, but so what. It would never work, he was sure of it now. They’d be fucked, Charlie and Vaggie would kick him and Cherri out, and they’d both be under Val’s thumb. 

It all became too much. His vision swam from the tears that started to drip down his cheeks. He didn’t know what he was doing. He dropped his head into his hands and cried, letting out everything he’d pent up for the last few weeks, the voices around him muffled and soft as they tried to comfort him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next time, back to Cherri! Thanks for reading as always, review if you wish!


	5. The Realization

Cherri woke in the morning to a text from Angel, telling her he had to do some work for Val and to make excuses for him at the breakfast table. He also told her not to do anything stupid with Alastor’s journal – as if she would. Even just having the thing in her room while she slept unnerved her. She wouldn’t be surprised if the leather binding actually turned out to be human skin or something. 

The breakfast table was quiet when she got there. Only Charlie and Vaggie were up, sitting together and taking up one small corner of the massive table. Charlie looked worried as Vaggie spoke to her quietly, but her face split into a grin when she spotted Cherri. 

“Morning!” Charlie chirped. 

“Yo,” Cherri half held up a hand, dropping down into the seat on Charlie’s other side. “Where is everyone?” 

Vaggie counted off on her fingers, “Niffty is cleaning somewhere, Husk is most likely hungover, Alastor only joins us when he wants to – and I guess I should be asking you where Angel is. Not off on another bender, I hope.” 

Cherri bristled a little at that, “No, he told me to tell you he had to work this morning.” 

“He did?” Charlie bit her lip. “So he’s still doing… that?” 

“Of course he is, it’s his fucking job,” Cherri said. “What, did you expect him to sit around here all day and do nothing and have tea parties with you two?” 

Vaggie scowled at her. “It’s just that when he goes there, he’s always more likely to relapse to drugs and booze.” 

“Yeah, no shit, it’s Hell idiot,” Cherri scowled back. “Ya gotta do something to take the edge off.” She didn’t know how much Angel had told the management team about his job, or about Valentino, and she didn’t want to out him if he was keeping it from them on purpose, but it bugged her that the two didn’t seem to realize how trapped Angel actually was. 

“I can see why you two are friends,” Vaggie muttered, going back to her toast. 

“What’s that supposed to mean –“ 

“Annnyway,” Charlie said, patting Cherri’s arm with a friendly smile, “Thanks for the update, Cherri. In any case, I’ve been up working on your redemption plan!” 

To Cherri’s horror, the princess lugged a giant binder, absolutely bursting with papers, onto the table. “Here it is!” Charlie beamed. “Ready to go over it? Great!” She said without actually waiting for an answer, “Item one –“ 

She was interrupted by Alastor coming through the door. Normally so put together, the Radio Demon seemed a little out of it this morning. The ambient radio feedback that often accompanied him was glitchy, as if some external force was changing radio channels every second. 

“Morning, Alastor,” Charlie said in her usual happy voice, “Breakfast?” 

“No… no thank you, my dear,” Alastor’s voice was just as glitchy as the sounds following him, and Cherri noticed his shadow stuttering a little on one of the walls. “I have some… business to attend to at the Tower today… I’m hoping to find… well… it’s not a concern of yours. I’ll see myself out.” 

“That was weird,” Vaggie commented as the Radio Demon disappeared out the door. 

“Do you think he’s sick or something?” Charlie asked. 

“An Overlord, getting sick?” Vaggie snorted. “Yeah, right.” 

Cherri was still staring towards where Alastor had gone, a sinking feeling in her stomach. She had a feeling Alastor’s weird behavior might have been a direct result of her actions. And she… felt bad about it? She was yanked out of her thoughts by Charlie tapping the binder again. 

“Right! Anyway, item one, incendiary devices…” 

\---   
Cherri groaned as she flopped face-first onto the bed. Fat Nuggets snuffled around her – she’d ‘liberated’ the pig from Angel’s room, figuring her friend wouldn’t mind if she gave his pet some company while he was away at work. 

Charlie had spent four hours that morning going over Cherri’s redemption plan, every day charted out like some kind of psychotic soccer mom calendar. Plus, she’d then tried to spend another half hour giving Cherri ‘counseling’, and that was when the cyclops demon finally decided to haul ass. She liked the princess, she did, but she could be way too much – that was one of the reasons Cherri had refused to join the hotel before the whole contract fiasco in the first place. 

The other reason was now coming to bite her in the ass – Cherri could never stand to be idle for too long, or else she started to go nuts. That was why she was always outside, running around, blowing shit up, getting in fights, hitting up clubs, anything to keep her body moving and to keep her deeper thoughts far, far away. If she was moving, or partying, she could stay in the moment. If she was idle, she sank fast. It was one of the reasons she and Angel understood each other so well. 

But now, at the hotel, there wasn’t much she could do to keep herself moving. They didn’t even have a proper outside area. All she could do was sit here and play with Fat Nuggets and wait for Angel to come back so they could get a move on with their plan and she could finally get out of this dump. She didn’t actually have any hope of redemption in her mind, but she had to play nice for now. Just for now. 

The hotel did have some perks, though – Cherri was a huge fan of the en-suite bathroom in her room. The bathroom in her own apartment was a mess that would make a trucker scream, but the one in the hotel was spa quality, no doubt thanks to Niffty. 

She glanced out the window – the afternoon was getting late, and Angel still wasn’t back. That worried her some, but she decided she’d give her friend another hour or so before texting to see where he was – who knew what nonsense Val would’ve wanted him to do today. In the meantime, she decided to utilize the beautiful bathroom and take a shower. 

Cherri had barely had time to turn on the water and test the temperature before a banging on her door startled her. Oh God, if this was Charlie with the part two binder of her redemption plan… 

“What?” Cherri snapped, “Doesn’t a bitch get alone time in this place?!” 

“I told Angel I’d come get ya,” Husk’s voice came through the door. “He looks like he got jumped or somethin’. It ain’t lookin’ good.” 

Cherri’s eye widened and she immediately shut off the water. Only one word was going through her head. Shit. Shit, shit, shit. 

She threw open the door to find Husk standing there still – he actually looked worried. That was a new one. He didn’t say anything else, just gestured to her to follow him. 

Cherri arrived to find Charlie and Vaggie already clustered around Angel at the bar – and Husk had been right. It didn’t look good, at all. Cherri raked her eyes over Angel’s injuries, flicking it up to his face. Fuck, was his wrist broken? She snapped at the hotel residents crowded around, telling them to get stuff to help fix him up. Clearly they’d never seen Angel come back in a state like this before. 

Cherri kept an arm around her friend, supervising as Charlie and the others dealt with the injuries, but she startled and looked down as Angel’s shoulders hunched under her arm as he started to cry. That couldn’t be good – Angel hardly ever even cried in front of her – and now, to do it in front of the hotel residents… something must have completely broken inside him. 

Charlie said something about making sure Angel’s bed was made up, and that brought Cherri back to her senses. 

“I’ll go up with him,” She said softly, “Just… give us a little time, okay?” 

“We’ll be right down here if you need anything,” Charlie said, concerned eyes on Angel. 

“C’mon, Angie…” Cherri carefully pushed Angel to his feet. His head hung, his bangs covering his face. Tears were still dripping down his cheeks, making tracks in the fur. 

“Cherri…” Angel whispered as she pushed open the door to his room, to get him to at least sit on his bed, “We are so fucked.” 

\-------------- 

Cherri rocked back on the legs of her chair. Angel had pretty much passed out after his pronouncement of how well and truly fucked they were, and now lay curled in on himself in bed, breathing shallowly. So Cherri sat by his bed, just watching him. Giving him a friendly presence in the room. Already she could tell some of the swelling was going down – one of the perks of being a demon, she supposed. Injuries never lasted all that long. 

She frowned, squinting at the shadow under her feet – surely even with the light from the window her shadow wouldn’t be that elongated… 

Quick as anything, the shadow elongated even more and slithered up from under the chair and up the wall. 

“Hello!” Alastor manifested out of nowhere, suddenly leaning against the same wall she’d just watched the shadow go up. She shrieked and lost her balance, tipping back too far and slamming into the wall, banging her head. 

“You fucking…” Cherri growled, righting herself, putting the chair between her and Alastor. “Okay, buddy, if I’m gonna be staying here, we need to establish some ground rules about sneaking up on people! This is the millionth time!”

“Sorry,” Alastor cocked his head, his words sounding strange, like someone was fiddling with a volume dial halfway before he was done speaking. “I didn’t mean to startle you. I, in fact, did not mean to manifest in this room at all. I had quite been hoping to end up in the lounge. Things are quite strange today, I must admit.” 

“Uh huh,” Cherri didn’t move from her spot behind the chair, “Well, keep it down, will ya? Poor guy’s trying to sleep.” 

Alastor seemed to notice Angel lying there for the first time. “My, my. Lost a fight, did we?” 

Cherri folded her arms. “Somethin’ like that.” 

“Hmm…” Alastor suddenly shuddered, his shadow juttering on the wall like someone had just waved their hand in front of its light source. Cherri frowned. 

“Uh, dude, you okay?” Despite her better judgment, she backed up a little, gesturing to the chair. 

“Yes, yes, nothing for concern,” Alastor said, though he did take the seat Cherri offered. “My power and I are just a bit disconnected today.” 

“Does that happen a lot?” 

“No, not normally,” Alastor said, inspecting one hand, “I normally keep very close ties on my sources of power, but one seems to have slipped away from me. No matter, I’m sure it will turn up soon. It is playing havoc with my dear shadow, though.” 

Cherri glanced back at Angel, then took a small step forward, closer to Alastor. “What do you mean, sources of power?” 

Alastor sighed, relaxing back into the chair. “Normally I prefer to have stories over a cup of something hot and strong.” He held out a hand, and a teacup and saucer appeared there. “Care for some?” 

“No,” Cherri said, getting impatient now. Alastor seemed to sense it, as his words became even more drawn out, bringing out some more of the Southern accent that was so often hidden behind radio static. 

“If, like me, you were not born in Hell and in fact had a previous life, you don’t simply end up with my power by the luck of the draw,” Alastor said. “It takes work and careful planning. Of course, I had some idea that I would end up down here before I died, so I took some precautions. I made deals with sinners and voodoo doctors and crossroad demons – anyone I could find. Little bits of my soul, here and there, sold and transformed and bound to objects to absolutely ensure I could topple those with power the moment I fell down here.” 

Alastor paused, taking a sip of tea before continuing, “Well, the plan seemed to work, after all. My shadow is a result of one of those deals of course; I keep all the wards I need to keep all the bindings between my soul and my power together in a journal, which I unfortunately seem to have misplaced. Unfortunately without my knowledge of where it is, the bond begins to waver.” 

“You mean you get weaker?” Cherri asked carefully. 

“Something like that, although I don’t appreciate the word ‘weak’,” Alastor said. “I prefer ‘temporarily displaced.’ It is odd. I don’t often forget where I laid something down. Perhaps old age can catch up to us even in death, ha.” 

Alastor stood. “I do apologize again for surprising you and disturbing you, Ms. Cherri,” he said. “I do hope you’re finding our little hotel experiment…. Thought provoking.” He snapped his fingers, and his shadow moved over to him, consuming him, until he was gone. 

Cherri shuddered, then turned back towards Angel. His breathing had changed – he was awake, but pretending to still be asleep. She sat on the bed, reaching to brush his bangs out of his face. 

“Angie?” 

He just grunted, pushing his face into the pillow. Cherri pulled her hand away. 

“Val said take tomorrow off,” Angel muttered into the bedclothes. “Heal up before the show or whateva.” 

“That’s good,” Cherri said encouragingly, “You need the rest.” 

“Mmph.” Angel grunted again, pulling the blanket over his head. Cherri sighed, lifting Fat Nuggets onto the bed so he could cuddle with the pig. 

“There…” Cherri said, “Get some rest, Angel. I’ll come check on you soon. And everyone’s downstairs if you need anything. You can just call down with the room phone.” 

Angel didn’t answer. The only sign that he was even awake was a slow movement of his lower arms to pull Fat Nuggets to him.   
\--- 

“You’re a day early,” Val said, leaning back in his office chair to regard Cherri. “Deadline’s not ‘til tomorrow.” 

“So?” Cherri said, “I got what you need now. What’s the point in waiting?” 

Val chuckled a little. “I like that.” 

Cherri stood in the middle of his office, as far away from Val’s desk as she could get while still being able to have a conversation with him. She moved aside as the door behind her opened, and Vox strode in, heading over to sit on the corner of Val’s desk. 

“What’s going on here?” The Television Demon cocked his head at Cherri. 

“This young lady here has some info about the Radio Demon that she’d like to give us,” Val answered, and the television-headed demon nodded. Cherri tried to ignore the self-satisfied smirk on his screen. 

“So,” Val leaned forward. “Whaddya got that is sooo worth Angel’s contract, hm?” 

Cherri reached into her shirt and pulled out the journal, tossing it on the desk. “Here. It binds him to all his power. Without it, he’s all disconnected.” 

Her stomach twisted, but Alastor was a powerful Overlord, right? She was sure even without this, he’d recover. She wasn’t so sure Angel would, if this kept on much longer. 

Val reached for the journal to look at it, but Vox excitedly snatched it before he could, flipping through it. “Holy shit. Holy fuck. How did you get this? Val, this is – ow!” he shut up as Val elbowed him in the ribs, glaring at him. 

“It’s a start,” Val said. 

“A start?” Cherri frowned, “The fuck do you mean? Your little boyfriend there seemed pretty excited about it.” 

“Vox is excited about everything. The deal was if I’m satisfied with what you bring me, remember? Now, does the Radio Demon suspect you at all?’ 

Cherri blinked, unsure where this was going, “No, I don’t think so.” 

“Good. This journal is a good start, you did good there. But it’s only a start, got that? You’re gonna start telling us his movements now.” 

Cherri frowned, taking a step back. “Like fuck I will. I already got the stupid journal, that should do it for you.” 

“I think,” Val snapped his fingers, and red smoke appeared around Cherri’s wrists in the form of cuffs, “You’ll find you don’t have a choice.” 

\------

How could she have been so stupid. All she had wanted to do was give her best friend some relief, free him from the constant spiral he seemed to be in. But now she was in the spiral too, and she couldn’t see a way out. She saw it now. Valentino had no intention of letting either of them go. How could she have fucked up so much? 

Cherri didn’t bother using the main door of the hotel – instead she climbed in through Angel’s window like she’d used to do before she officially joined. She climbed onto his bed, sitting cross-legged on the end of it, reaching out to nudge his foot. 

Angel peeked out at her from over the top of the blanket. “Cherri?” He frowned at the look on her face, “…What is it?” 

“Angel… I think we’re gonna need some help.”


	6. The Plan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright this is a bridge chapter and it's really freakin' long but I needed to keep Angel's POV for some things without switching back to Cherri so there ya go. Hope you enjoy it!

Angel and Cherri sat across from each other at the kitchen table, a pot of coffee between them. They were both quiet, as if unsure who should speak first. Angel decided to bite the bullet and open his mouth. 

“So… about that thing I said about not doing anything stupid with the journal…” 

“Shut up, Angel,” Cherri said, but there was no malice behind her words. Just exhaustion. “I get it. I messed up.” 

“Hey,” Angel reached across the table with his long, non-broken wristed arm to pat hers, “S’okay, I was only teasin’ ya. I wish I coulda stopped ya before signin’ wit’ Val, but I appreciate what you were tryin’ to do. Really.” 

“It was a dumb idea.” 

“Well, yeah.” 

“Angel!” 

“You said it first!” 

Cherri groaned and put her head in her hands. “What’re we gonna do?” 

Angel shifted, “I got one idea but you ain’t gonna like it. You were right, we’re gonna need help. An’ maybe that means we just gotta tell someone what’s been goin’ on.” 

“Tell who?” 

“Alastor.” 

Cherri’s jaw dropped. “Are you fucking kidding me? He’ll kill us both, bring us back from the dead, kill us again and then eat us!” 

Angel shook his head. “I don’t wanna tell Charlie an’ Vaggie, they’ll kick me outta here in two seconds if they find out, an’ same goes for Niffty and Husker, they’re too likely to spill the beans by mistake. Can’t guarantee Alastor won’t spill either, but I’m bettin’ he wants his journal back and if we ask, he might agree to keep it on the down low. More drama for his entertainment later, y’know?” 

He didn’t want to admit he had an ulterior motive for not telling Charlie. She’d put so much work into the hotel, been so kind to him… he didn’t think he could actually handle the look of disappointment, the look of betrayal, the guilt he was bound to get if he told her and Vaggie what was really going on. Not to mention the wrath from Vaggie. He’d rather take his chances with the Radio Demon – at least he would understand Overlord deals. 

“Don’t you think he’ll be upset that we were spying on him?” 

“Maybe,” Angel said. “But we’re too fucked to keep tryin’ to do this on our own, Cherri. Listen, I’ll take the rap for the damn book, okay? I’ll tell him I was tryin’ to do what I could to help ya out, he might take it easy on me then. And if he doesn’t, then I guess at least I won’t hafta worry ‘bout Val anymore.” 

Cherri shot him a sharp look. “Angel-“ 

He waved a hand, “I’m kiddin’, I’m kiddin’. I’ll tell him I’ll get the journal back for him after the show tomorrow, that oughtta make him lay off me long enough, and he won’t know you were involved in that part.” 

“But –“ 

Cherri was interrupted by the deer demon in question strolling into the kitchen, humming to himself. He paused when saw the two sitting there, “Hello!” 

His voice was still a little off with the volume, but at least his shadow didn’t seem to be glitching around this time. 

“Hey…” Angel said slowly. 

Alastor looked between them, his usual giant smile in place, as if he could sense something was going on. “And what brings you two to our wonderfully stocked kitchen this morning? I believe our princess took Angel Dust’s request of ‘real food’ quite seriously! You are looking a bit better today, Angel - I must say, there is nothing better for any ailment than a good meal!” 

Angel gestured to the coffee pot on the table, “M’good with coffee.” He ignored the frown Cherri made at him, and stood up. “Listen, Al, I – we – wanted ta –“ 

“Ooh, boy!” 

Angel looked down to see Niffty scurrying by his feet. She hopped up onto the chair so she could be closer to eye level, folding her arms. “Angel Dust! Ms. Cherri Bomb! If you wanted snacks, you should have called me! I’ll whip something up for you right now!” 

“Oh, no, sweetie, that’s okay…” Angel started but Niffty shook her head, pushing the chair over to the cupboards so she could reach. 

“I’ll have somethin’ in a jiffy!” 

Angel gave up, letting out a small exasperated sigh as he locked eyes with Cherri – they wouldn’t be able to speak to Alastor with Niffty there. 

“I look forward to seeing what you create, my dear,” Alastor said, taking a seat in between Cherri and Angel. 

“Angel Dust, you like sweets right?” Niffty said, bringing mixing bowls and cups and whisks and who knew what else out of the cupboards with the intensity of a tornado, “I’ve been meaning to try making pizzelles!” 

Angel had been about to protest again, then blinked. “Ya… ya wanted to make pizzelles?” 

“Mm! I thought they might make you happier! You seem sad lately.” 

“The fuck are pizzelles?” Cherri asked, “Some kinda pizza pretzel thing?” 

“No, they’re cookies,” Angel said. “Traditional Italian things, they’re like super flat and… anyway, I ‘ppreciate the thought, Niffts, but ya need a special iron for those.” 

“Oh…” Niffty paused in her task of getting things out, wilting a little. 

“Why, I don’t see why a little detail like that should ruin the darling’s attempt!” Alastor said, holding out a hand. Angel noticed the deer demon’s hand shook a little, and it took a little longer than it normally did for Alastor to summon an item, but still, in moments, Alastor held a device that looked like a smaller, round version of a waffle iron. 

“Is this quite satisfactory?” Alastor said, showing Angel the press. 

“Yeah, that’ll do,” Angel couldn’t help but laugh a little. He walked over to the counter, standing next to Niffty. “Here, hun, there’s a trick to ‘em.” The faster he helped her with her task, the faster she would leave to take on another task, and he could finally spill the beans to Alastor and hopefully get the whole mess sorted out. Wouldn’t that be nice.

“How intriguing,” Alastor said, coming to hover over Angel’s shoulder to see what he was doing, “A flattening device. A larger version might have come in handy at some points –“ 

“Ah,” Angel said, turning around to shush Alastor, glancing at Cherri over his shoulder, who looked like she didn’t know if she should stay or flee, “If you’re about to tell some creep-ass cannibal story, not in front a’ the ladies. Or me.” 

“My apologies,” Alastor said, “I often forget that my peers have… weaker constitutions.” 

“I ain’t got a fuckin’ weak constitution and neither does Cherri,” Angel said, turning back to folding dough in the mixing bowl, “If I didn’t know betta I’d say ya were bein’ gross on purpose.” 

Alastor didn’t say anything, but he didn’t refute it, either. He stayed where he was, just behind Angel’s shoulder, watching as the spider worked. Angel slowed down, feeling a little awkward. 

“Can I help ya, or…?” 

“I’ve always been fascinated by baking,” Alastor shrugged. “Its components are so… scientific. One slip, and it’s all ruined. Quite poetic when you think about it. So I like to watch.” 

Angel couldn’t help himself, a smirk forming, “Oh, ya do, do ya? I didn’t know ya were inta that sorta thing.” 

“Not funny.” 

“I think it was hilarious.” 

“You would. You have such a base sense of humor.” 

“Hey,” Angel said a little sharply, “If you’re gonna put me down, ya might as well make yourself useful while you’re doin’ it. Here,” he shoved the pressing iron towards Alastor, “Dough goes in, press goes down, pizzelle comes out. Ya can pretend its one a’ your victims or somethin’ if that weird sorta shit makes you happy.” He flicked his mis-matched eyes towards Niffty, “An’ sweetie, if ya wanna make a fresh pot a’ coffee I’m sure Cherri Bomb would appreciate it.” 

“I would,” Cherri answered, “And, er, Niffty, I haven’t really gotten a chance to know you yet! Any chance you wanna join me for coffee for a few minutes in the lounge?” 

Niffty’s eye widened, “Really? You and me? Like friends?” 

“Sure, like friends,” Cherri smiled, gesturing at her singular eye, “Us cyclops bitches gotta stick together, right?” 

“Right!” Niffty lifted the pot of coffee above her head, “I’ll bring it!” 

Cherri shot Angel a significant look over her shoulder as she followed Niffty out of the kitchen – with the smaller housekeeping demon out of the way, Angel could speak freely to Alastor. Perfect. 

Except, Angel discovered, finding a way to start that conversation was harder than he anticipated. What was he supposed to say? “Hey Al, I love my best friend but she’s an impulsive, well-meaning moron sometimes, and we’re both responsible for stealing one of your power objects and handing it over to two of the most powerful Overlords in Hell while also causing your powers to be weakened, essentially betraying both you and the hotel, anyway, how’s those cookies treatin’ ya?” 

Alastor spoke before Angel could decide on an appropriate ice-breaker. “I was quite disappointed that you left our chess game so early, the other night.” 

“Were ya,” Angel said, “Ya were ‘bout to win. So what, ya wanted to savor the victory in person? Seems ‘bout right.” 

“What do you mean, I was ‘about to win’?” 

“Like ya don’t know,” Angel grumped, “Ya had me in check mate. That’s how ya win, last I checked.” 

“Hm,” Alastor said. “Funny that. After you so rudely stormed off, I did look at the board – and I will have you know that you had two moves you could have tried to save yourself from being checkmated. It might not have worked, but you could have tried.” 

“I could’ve, if _someone_ hadn’t been shittin’ all over me and my chosen career,” Angel said. “I don’t need to put up with that shit. Not here. Charlie said this was supposed ta be a judgement free zone, so how come I’m still gettin’ put down all the time?” 

“I am just saying,” Alastor said, pulling a finished pizzelle out of the iron and holding it up to inspect it, “That perhaps there is a life lesson there. Perhaps when you think you are out of options, there might be more you haven’t considered, if you inspect the problem more closely.” 

Angel turned to frown at him then. Did he know something? Alastor didn’t seem to be taunting him – in fact, the Radio Demon was still looking at the pizzelle with some curiosity.  
“It’s quite a bit larger than I thought it would be.” 

The spider groaned, “C’mon, Al, you’re makin’ it too easy.” 

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.” 

“’Course ya don’t.” 

Alastor tried a bit of the pizzelle, crunching the top off. “Mm – not normally a fan of sweets, but this certainly isn’t bad. Not overly sweet at all. I can see the appeal. Are you not going to try one? You put so much effort in.” 

Angel glanced at the pile of the flat sweets next to the iron. The smell was amazing, and it was giving him waves of nostalgia. His stomach clenched, and he remembered he’d barely eaten anything besides caffeine since Val’s texts after the donuts. When even had that been? It felt like years ago. 

“I might, later.”

“I haven’t seen you eat in quite a while, mon ange.” 

Angel put his hands on his hips, raising an eyebrow, “That’s a new one – never heard ya call me that before. I’m guessin’ it’s French or some shit?” 

He could’ve put it down to a trick of the light, or to some sort of shadow over Alastor’s natural coloring, but Angel could’ve sworn up and down he saw the Radio Demon blush.  
“It is merely a term to address you by. Occasionally used as a term of endearment.” 

“Oh, endearment, eh?” Angel couldn’t help but tease a little, before remembering the conversation he needed to have with Alastor, sooner rather than later. That certainly brought him crashing back down to reality. 

He took a deep breath. “Okay… hey, Al, I was tryin’ to say before Niffty came in, there’s somethin’ I wanted ta – whoa, dude, you okay?” 

Where he had been fine in color a minute ago, Alastor suddenly looked a little paler, a little shakier. His shadow jumped from wall to wall, accompanied by a loud screech of radio feedback, making Angel wince. 

“I’ll be fine, I assure you,” Alastor said, reaching for a chair to sit down. “Just a small glitch. Nothing to worry about.” 

“Uh huh.” Angel knew very well what the hell was the matter with the Radio Demon. “Ya want some… like, water or somethin’? Or I could get Husk to give ya somethin’ stronger.” 

“As I said. I’ll be fine.” Alastor regarded Angel as if he didn’t know quite what to say, either. “You said you wanted to speak to me about something.” 

“Yeah…ahhh….” Ah, fuck, he couldn’t do it. “So what’s wit’ you an’ the radio thing then? Kinda seems a little old fashioned, even for Hell.” Dammit, he was such a coward. 

Alastor’s brows raised up into his hair, as if he hadn’t been expecting that at all. Well, Angel couldn’t blame him, this wasn’t exactly where he’d planned the conversation to go, either. “Is there a problem with old fashioned?” 

“Not wit’ me, I was just curious…” Angel said. “I like the radio, actually. TV was just a weird new fad thing for super rich people when I was alive, barely anybody even heard a’ ‘em. Kinda funny since I make a livin’ in media now…” 

Alastor shook his head. “Can’t stand the things. There’s just no imagination. It’s so much more frightening when people must imagine what is happening based on description and sound effects… that infernal box just shows them the gore straight away. Where’s the fun in that? Are you truly not going to try one of your delightful cookie things?” 

Angel sighed, eyeing the plate. The tower of pizzelles did smell good. “Okay, fine, fine, ya win, if it’ll shut ya up about it.” He grabbed one of the thin sweets, crunching down on it. 

“Oh, I see how it is,” Cherri smirked from the doorway, almost making Angel drop the rest of the cookie, “I beg ya to eat somethin’ and the minute he does, you jump to it.” 

Angel’s fur puffed up in embarrassment. Niffty hopped around Cherri’s feet, holding the now empty coffee pot above her head, speaking so fast it was hard to catch her words. “Me and Cherri Bomb finished the coffee and really got to know each other but it’s empty now so I thought I’d make some more does anyone want any coffee I want some more coffee!” 

“Oh dear,” Alastor said, although he looked slightly amused, “I should have warned you about so much caffeine consumption in such a small body. Here, darling, let’s make some decaf.” 

While Alastor turned to busy himself with the coffee, Cherri shot Angel a questioning look, and he gave a small shake of his head in return. He hadn’t got up the nerve to tell Alastor – they were still stuck in the same pit they’d found themselves in a few hours ago. 

“Oooh, something smells good!” Charlie clapped her hands together in delight as she walked into the kitchen, Vaggie trailing behind her. 

The moth was the first to spot the plate of cookies, carefully picking one up. “I think it’s these, hun… Niffty, what are these?” 

“Pizzelles!” Niffty said as she watched the decaf coffee drip into the pot. “Angel made them!” 

Vaggie’s suspicious gaze snapped to Angel. “You?” 

Angel gave her a grin, “Hey, not all my talents are sexual, sweet cheeks. I do have otha interests – not that ya eva asked.” 

“That better be fuckin’ coffee I smell,” Husker said, scuffing his way into the kitchen, one paw held up to shield his eyes from the light. 

“It’s decaf!” Niffty said excitedly. 

“Ah, fuck.”

“Ohmigosh, Angel, these are amazing!” Charlie gushed, already double-fisting two pizzelles and talking with her mouth full. 

“Swallow, babe,” Vaggie said, then held up a finger to shut Angel up before he could say anything, “Don’t.” 

“Ay, you guys just all make it too easy! Ain’t my fault!” 

“I’m glad everyone’s here, actually,” Charlie said, swallowing, “I was gonna call everyone together anyway. I know the hotel has been a readjustment for a lot of you, and I know more stress can lead to more sinning soooo, I’ve decided that we’re going to spend the day together relaxing as a big hotel family! I’ve got lots of games, and movies, and it’s gonna be great!” 

Angel shot a slightly panicked look over her head at Cherri. He’d never get to spill to Alastor now, not with all of them hanging around – he’d had his chance, and he’d completely blown it. Shit. 

Vaggie saw the look and misinterpreted it, waving her finger in his face. “Don’t even think about skipping out, Angel. Charlie put a lot of effort into this, and you did agree to attend what activities we planned when you signed up here. And so did you,” she said, pointing at Cherri. 

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Angel said, taking a deep breath. Fine then. He’d just have to think of another plan, once he could shake loose of the enthusiastic princess. “Well then, what’re we wain’ for?”

\---- 

As much as Angel hated to admit it, the day Charlie had planned was really nice. It was true he hadn’t really gotten to know the hotel residents too closely, and for once he felt the non-pressure atmosphere Charlie had promised as they sat in the living room and watched movies and threw popcorn at each other (well – he and Cherri did most of the throwing); as Husker attempted to teach the girls poker; as they sat in front of the fireplace and talked. Angel even felt comfortable enough by the end of the day to invite them all to his upcoming show without worrying about shitty comments from anyone. 

If only he hadn’t had the Alastor problem hanging over his head, the day would’ve been perfect. 

Cherri must have been feeling the pressure of the problem too, as she broke into his room at three in the morning to sit on the edge of his bed. He wasn’t asleep. She’d known he wouldn’t be. 

They sat there in silence for a while until Angel said, “Aight. I gotta ‘nother plan.” 

“Because your last one worked so well,” Cherri sighed. “What happened back there?” 

“I dunno, I got – flustered, I guess.” 

“You don’t usually get flustered.” Cherri sat up, her eye widening, “Wait. Do you like him or something?” 

Angel wished his stupid fur didn’t have a mind of its own as it started puffing up again. “ _No_ , I don’t _like_ the fucking radio psycho. It’s just hard to get that conversation ball rollin’, ya know? Whaddya say, sorry I accidentally betrayed ya, please don’t yank out my intestines?”

“Fine, fine,” Cherri said, looking him up and down. “So what’s this other plan?” 

“Aight, so, we’re still gonna tell Al what happened –“ 

“Love it already,” Cherri said sarcastically. 

“Just lemme finish, Cherri. Anyway, we’re still gonna tell Al what happened but not til after my show, ‘cause I’m gonna grab the journal back. We tell him Val and Vox had the journal ‘cause they were threatenin’ you, we give him the journal back, he gets his weirdo power back, and then we can ask him to see if he can do somethin’ about that contract of yours.” 

“What if Val catches you?” Cherri frowned. 

“He won’t,” Angel grinned. “C’mon, it’s worth at least tryin’.” 

“…Okay. I guess we can try it. Anything’s worth trying to get out of this stupid mess.” 

“That’s the spirit. Now get outta my room. Y’ever hear of beauty sleep?” 

“Yeah, and you’re gonna need a lot of it,” Cherri cackled, a thrown pillow chasing her to the door. 

\--- 

The next night, Angel sat at his vanity in his dressing room at the club attached to the studio, putting the finishing touches on his makeup as he listened to Val and Vox yelling at each other in the room across the hall. If those two weren’t on the outs again by the end of the night, he’d eat his boot. 

There was a knock at the door, and he muffled a groan, going to get it. “I told ya, Val, I’m not ready… yet…” he trailed off as he opened it. Nobody was there, but there was a bouquet of flowers on the floor. Confused, he picked them up. Val hadn’t given him opening night flowers for…. Well, decades. 

He found a card sticking out of one of the roses, and he plucked it out. Neat writing read: 

I believe flowers before a performance is customary. –A. 

A? Alastor? Angel put the flowers on his vanity and sat down. Cherri was wrong – he did get flustered. 

Val poked his head in through the open door. “What the hell are you still doing in here? The lights already went down! Get out there!” His eyes snapped immediately to the flowers, “Who are those from?” 

“A fan,” Angel said easily, getting up and swiping the card onto the floor, out of Val’s view. “And keep your damn coat on, I’m comin’.” 

\--- 

Angel’s mind was somewhere else during the show, something he was sure Val would get him for later. But he’d been a little thrown off to see Charlie, Vaggie, and Husk sitting at one of the front tables, Charlie enthusiastically waving at him as he hit the stage. Sure, he’d invited them, but he didn’t think they’d actually come. Damn, they’d actually somehow gotten Husk to come. Cherri wasn’t there – he’d actually asked her not to come this time. Just in case things did go south with Val later, he didn’t want his friend caught up more than she already was. 

Someone else was missing, too. Angel couldn’t say if what he felt was disappointment that Alastor wasn’t there – he didn’t know why he’d be surprised, it’s not like this was the other demon’s scene at all. As Angel hooked his leg around the pole to begin another spinning descent, he could swear he saw a flash of a red coat – but when he looked harder, it was gone. He didn’t know why he was getting his hopes up anyway – it was probably just Val. 

He finished his set to thunderous applause. He was famous for a reason, after all. Angel hurried backstage without glancing back at his hotel friends; he’d catch up with them later, but now he was on a mission. He hurried out of the club, into the studio next door, riding the elevator all the way to the penthouse. Dia sat on one of the sofas lining the hallway, scrolling on her phone, dressed for her show later that night. 

“Hey, Dia, suga, Val in?” 

Dia shook her head, not looking up from her phone. “Went out. With Vox, I think.” 

“Aight. I’mma just leave my tips on his desk, then.” 

Dia shrugged. “Whatever.” 

Valentino being out of the studio made Angel’s task a lot easier. At least, that’s what the spider had thought as he entered the office and dropped the stack of bills on the desk. Unfortunately, it turned out not to be as easy as he’d hoped when he opened all the desk drawers to discover the journal wasn’t there. 

“What the fuck?” Angel turned to the chair, lifting up the cushion, and looked under the casting couch and the desk in case it had fallen, but Val kept his office pretty sparse, and it soon became clear to Angel the journal wasn’t in the room at all. Shit, this was a problem – he’d seen Val put it into the desk drawer, hadn’t he? What the fuck was the moth doing with it? Where the fuck was the journal? 

Angel stood in the middle of the room, trying to think of what to do next, when his phone buzzed in his pocket. 

Cherri: We have a problem! Did you get the journal?? Hurry back to hotel ASAP!!! 

Problem? Angel started to text back to get more clarification when he glanced out the window and almost dropped his phone. 

From this height, the Happy Hotel could just barely be seen, a speck of a building on the horizon. That wasn’t what worried Angel – what worried him was the ominous, dark blood-red storm clouds that were forming above the hotel. 

Another text. 

Cherri: It’s Val.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually from a traditional Italian family myself, and my grandma makes better pizzelles than me because her iron is from the 70's or some shit and mine is from Walmart and IT DRIVES ME MAD. So I figured I could at least give Angel the good ones :P 
> 
> Anyway, what was that they say about writing, get your characters up a tree and throw rocks at them? I have a lot of rocks. 
> 
> Thank you so much for reading and to everyone who's commented so far!


	7. The Loss

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw, you guys didn't think I'd make you sit with that cliffhanger for too long, did ya?  
> Thanks so much to everyone who commented on the last chapter, this has become my most popular fic now! I hope the story continues to live up to your expectations! 
> 
> That being said... there's a lot of angst coming up. Like A LOT. You've been warned!

Cherri wandered through the hotel, listening to her footsteps echo through the cavernous place. The hotel was large, but it felt even larger with everyone gone to watch Angel’s show. She didn’t quite know what to do with herself, idly checking her phone as she sat at the bar, reaching over it to help herself to a bottle. Nothing from Angel yet, but she figured he probably wasn’t quite done with his set. 

She looked up as she heard the click of tap shoes coming down the hallway. Alastor’s usual smile widened when he saw her sitting at the bar. “Thirsty, my dear?” 

Cherri shrugged, taking another drink, “Doesn’t count as sinning if no one sees you, right?” Something occurred to her, “Hey, you didn’t sneak up on me this time!” 

Alastor sat carefully on the bar stool next to her, “I do, occasionally, take requests. And considering the last time I hadn’t meant to frighten you, I decided I would make my appearance obvious this time.” 

“How very gentlemanly of you.” Cherri reached over the bar and grabbed another bottle, holding it up to Alastor as an offer, but he waved a hand. 

“No thank you, not tonight, I don’t believe. If I may ask, is there a particular reason you are not at Angel Dust’s performance? One would think a friend as close as you would show up.” 

“I don’t see you going, either,” Cherri shot back. 

“On the contrary, I was there,” Alastor said. “I simply didn’t see the need to risk staying for the entire time and be spotted by… well, let’s just say I have a certain image to uphold, and it does not involve entertaining oneself at strip clubs.” 

Cherri blinked, still hung up on the fact that Alastor had been there at all. “Wait, so – you were there, watching? Watching Angel? Watching Angel _pole dancing_? You?” 

“He seemed quite insistent that he was proud of his work and that it took talent and skill. I wanted to investigate. I hate to admit, but it seems he was right.” 

“Hm,” Cherri put her chin on her hand, watching the Radio Demon. She realized, suddenly, that the usual jolt of fear she felt whenever he was around was absent. Now she simply felt… comfortable. Content. Well, she had been living with the guy for a week, and in rather close quarters too. And she hadn’t forgotten how Angel’s fur had puffed up at the mention he might like the guy the previous night. Maybe it was about time she stopped trying to run away from Alastor and started trying to get to know him a little better instead. 

“What are you contemplating, my dear?” 

“Oh, uh, nothing,” Cherri said. She wondered if she should spill the beans to Alastor about what was going on with her and Angel before her friend came back with the journal – at least prepare him for the blow or something? She tried to get her thoughts in order, rocking the now empty booze bottle back and forth on the bar. “Alastor, um, you know, Angel..."

She let out a startled shriek as the hotel suddenly rocked back and forth, as if something huge had rammed into it, knocking her right off her stool and onto the floor. “What the fuck was that?!” 

Alastor hadn’t lost his balance, still sitting perfectly upright on the edge of the bar stool. He held out his microphone staff to Cherri, who took it and pulled herself up. He wasn’t paying attention to her, though – he was listening for something, head slightly cocked. 

“Alastor?” 

“Shh!” Alastor held up a finger to shush her. There was the buzz of something short-circuiting, and then they found themselves in darkness as the power suddenly shut off. The hotel shuddered again, then began to shake more violently. 

Unnerved, Cherri grabbed the bar to keep herself from falling over again, reaching for her phone to shoot a text to Angel, hoping he got the damn journal. 

“I believe it may be in our best interest to make a quick egress,” Alastor said. 

“But the hotel!” 

“Is a non-sentient building and will not care whether it buries you or not, now out we go,” Alastor said, pushing her ahead of him. 

“Wait!” Cherri dug her heels in, spotting something familiar through one of the large windows. Val’s car. “Shit, it’s Val.” 

“Valentino?” Alastor frowned, “What in the world would he be doing here?” 

Cherri wondered that herself, but she knew it couldn’t be anything good. The hotel shuddered one more time before the door burst clean off, revealing Vox standing in the doorway, a grin on his electronic face. Just behind him, Cherri could see Val leaning against his car, but the moth didn’t seem particularly interested in what was going on in front of him. In fact, he looked kind of bored. 

“I thought you’d be here, Alastor,” Vox said, his grin widening. 

“How rude,” Alastor said. His own smile didn’t drop, exactly, but it did get sharper – more dangerous. “A civilized person might have knocked, and I have to say, I am getting _very_ tired of replacing that door.” 

“Why, can’t you do it with your precious powers in five seconds?” Vox taunted, “Oh, right – you don’t have any power right now!” 

Alastor cocked his head. “Excuse me?” 

“You’ve had a hold of this territory for far too long, not to mention the reign of terror you’ve raged across Hell, you think you’re so special, don’t you?” Vox said, reaching into his jacket and pulling out Alastor’s journal, “Well, you’re not so big without this, you smiling bastard! That power’s all mine now.” 

“Ah.” Cherri noticed Alastor’s grip tighten on his microphone, just slightly. His eyes flashed, shifting into radio dials, and she took a step back, freaked out. “ _Try me_.” 

“What is going on?!” A high-pitched voice screeched. Charlie. 

Cherri turned to see everyone piling out of Charlie’s limo, which had screeched to a stop not too far from Val’s. Vaggie already had her spear out, threatening the other moth with it. “You aren’t welcome here,” she snarled, “and this isn’t your territory, so I highly recommend you pack up and leave right now.” 

“And what,” Val said, taking a cigarette and lighting it up, “Are you going to do about it, bitch? Sorry to tell you, but we got a new power you just can’t beat, even with your little radio pet. Vox!” 

Vox slammed one hand back towards them, a fireball shooting straight for the princess’ group. 

Charlie’s eyes blazed and her blonde hair whipped around by an invisible wind as two horns grew out of her head. Cherri had never seen the princess in her demon form, except for once on television, but she’d definitely seen a don’t-fuck-with-me look before, and Charlie had a terrifying expression as she batted the fireball down like a volleyball, the fire erupting in a ring around them, lighting the topiaries in the front of the hotel that Charlie had worked so hard on. 

“Nice try, bitch,” Vox yelled, “But this is between me and the Radio fucker, not you – hey!” The Television Demon swiped a hand at Husk as the cat tried an aerial attack, “Val, help me out, will you?!” 

Val barely looked up from his phone as he snapped his fingers. Several of his usual heavies melted out of the shadows, charging straight for Charlie and the rest of her group.  
“No!” Cherri railroaded one, slamming into him and knocking him to the ground, but there were too many – she found herself back to back with Vaggie, doing her best to hold the other demons off. At least Vaggie had a spear! 

Grumbling to himself, still holding the journal open in one hand, Vox held his other out. The pavement below their feet began to roll as if it were made of ocean waves instead of concrete; a dark circle spread around himself and Alastor, huge, eldritch-horror tentacles beginning to make their way out. 

Alastor swiped his microphone towards them, making the tentacles back off as he grew a little larger, his voice growing more terrifying as he faced Vox. “You might want to stop now. You’re embarrassing yourself.” 

“How – how are you doing that?!” Vox screeched, trying to consult the journal again, “You’re – “ he pointed at Cherri, “She said this book would make you powerless!” 

Cherri felt Vaggie shift against her back, the other demon turning to stare at her with murder in her eyes. “You…” 

“It’s not what you think!” Cherri said, looking up to see Charlie looking at her too, with nothing but a hurt expression. “It’s not, it’s – fuck!” Cherri had to dodge away from one of the heavy demons who was trying to grab at her; she could help more if she had her… bombs. Fuck, the bombs! 

Cherri spun to look at the hotel in horror. The fire amongst the bushes was spreading, growing higher, licking along the front walls of the hotel. Vox and Alastor were currently locked in a brawl in front of it, neither paying attention to the fire, but if it spread to Charlie’s office where the princess had put all her incendiary devices…

Cherri started running. Something caught her wrist, and she pulled on it, trying to get free, to be able to get to the office, but it pulled harder against her. Looking down, to her horror, she saw what was pulling her – a band of red smoke curling around her arm, yanking, dragging her back. 

She was dragged straight to Val, who pulled her against him, using his lower arms to hold her. “Long time, no see, baby doll.” 

“Get the fuck off me, creep!” Cherri struggled, her eye drifting to the fight nearby, sparks exploding from Alastor and Vox as they clashed. 

“Oi!” A familiar voice shouted, and Cherri’s heart sank. Angel stood on top of Charlie’s limo, holding his tommy gun in his third set of arms. He scowled at Val. “Let go a’ her.” 

“Angel, the bombs!” Cherri shouted. 

The spider twisted, his eyes widening as he saw the fire, coming to the same conclusion as Cherri. He leapt off the car roof, heading for the hotel. 

In front of the hotel, Vox slashed his arm down, and a lightning bolt exploded between the two demons, knocking them apart, both breathing hard and glaring at each other.  
“That bitch fucking lied!” Vox said, “The – the book was supposed to disconnect you!” 

Alastor’s arm shot out, grabbing Vox by the throat, bringing him in close. “I don’t know in what world _less_ power means the same as power _less_ ,” he said, gripping the other demon’s throat harder, making him squirm, “That’s the problem with you modern types.” He pressed his free hand against Vox’s chest, the Television Demon yelping as it started to sizzle, “You never _read_.” He flicked his hand and Vox shot into the sky in a shower of sparks, disappearing beyond the horizon. 

Alastor held his hand out, the journal plopping neatly into it, before turning to survey the burning hotel. His shadow enveloped him, and he disappeared. 

“Let go, you fucking shitlord!” Cherri said, trying to stamp on Val’s feet to make him let go – Angel hadn’t come out yet, she needed to find him! She froze in terror as her ears picked up the unmistakable sound of fuses being lit. 

She didn’t know if it was Val pushing her away as he leapt for the ground, or if it was the power of the blast that knocked her to the pavement that made her hit her head – all she knew was she was seeing stars as the front of the hotel blasted into rubble behind them, showering them with debris. Something flaming hit her back and legs, and she rolled to put it out. 

Everything tilted as she got to her feet. It was eerily silent, clouds of smoke rolling off the pile of rubble that had once been the hotel in waves. Slowly, Charlie and the others began to get to their feet, dirt and ash covering possible injuries. Val’s heavies were gone, possibly caught in the blast. Cherri didn’t know. Where was Val? Still hiding behind the limo. Coward. 

Her heart clenched. More importantly, where was Angel? 

She took one staggering step towards the rubble before she noticed the shadow beneath her feet, spreading like an oil stain. “What…” 

She stepped back, watching as Alastor rose out of the shadow, one hand gripping Angel’s arm. The spider looked stunned, but unhurt, Fat Nuggets clutched in his lower set of arms. As soon as they were on solid footing, Alastor let go, distancing himself from Angel. His expression seemed colder than Cherri could ever remember seeing on him. 

“Oh, thank fuck!” Cherri ran to Angel, yanking him into a hug. 

Nearby, Charlie’s demon form had disappeared, her face twisted in grief as she hit her knees, looking up at the ruined hotel. Alastor stepped up to her. “Everything can be rebuilt in time, my dear.” He glanced back at Cherri and Angel for a moment, before looking away again. “Almost everything.” 

Vaggie squared up to them. “You two,” she hissed, “I fucking knew it.” 

“It ain’t like that!” Angel argued, “It –“ 

“Yes, what is it like, Angel?” Val asked quietly, for Angel and Cherri’s ears only, from where he was standing up, narrowing his eyes at the spider, looking significantly at Cherri.  
Cherri’s chest felt tight. Is this what a panic attack was? 

Vaggie wasn’t listening anyway, waving a dismissive hand at them. “Angel Dust, who works for the _rival Overlords_ , who just happens to bring his friend who specializes in _blowing things up_ , who just _happens_ to win our trust enough for you to get us out of the place tonight?! Real big fuckin’ coincidence, huh?! Was this all a big fucking joke to you? Were you fucking _laughing_ at us at that goddamn studio the whole time?!" 

“Charlie, Vaggie, wait!” Cherri tried, feeling the pull at her wrists again as Val snapped his fingers. 

“Good work, you two,” the moth sneered, “I’m sick of this pain in the ass hotel anyway.” 

“Al?” Angel tried softly. 

For a moment, Cherri thought Alastor was going to ignore them completely, but he turned from Charlie, raising an eyebrow at them. “Consider my attempt to save you from being blown up as one last effort of the agreement I have with the princess to ensure none of the residents under the hotel’s roof were harmed,” Alastor said. “Beyond that, I have nothing more to say.” 

Cherri knew how it must look as she and Angel obediently trudged to Val’s limo. Good little demons, following Val’s every order. She wanted to tear Val’s head from his body and kick it across the city. 

She wasn’t sure if it would even matter, now. She’d ruined everything. Alastor had stepped back up to speak quietly to Charlie, and he didn’t look back as the limo pulled away. 

The ride back to the studio was silent. Cherri could tell from the look on Angel’s face that he was struggling, possibly dissociating, but she couldn’t comfort him with Val right there. For the first time since she had fallen, she truly felt like she was in Hell. 

\--- 

Cherri had never been in Angel’s room at the studio before. She hadn’t imagined it would be this depressing. Why weren’t there any windows? She sat cross-legged on her friend’s bed, rubbing his back while he was in the throes of a panic attack. She couldn’t blame him, really. 

“I’m so sorry, Angie…” she said softly. 

He didn’t say anything, but she didn’t expect him to. She wouldn’t talk to herself either, if she were him. 

There was a knock at the door, and Val pushed it open before anyone could actually answer. He pointed at Cherri, “You, upstairs, now.” 

“Fuck off, I’m busy right now,” Cherri snapped back, wincing as Val shot across the room and grabbed her arm, dragging her off the bed. That seemed to shake Angel out of whatever stupor he was in – he sat straight up, eyes wild with panic, grasping at the moth. 

“Val, leave ‘er alone, I’ll – I’ll do anythin’, just –“ 

“I know you will,” Val said, shoving the spider back down and pulling Cherri to the door, “Daddy will be back to deal with you later, baby.” He slammed the door shut.

-  
“You did good,” Val said, letting go of Cherri once they were in his office and strolling to his desk. “Can’t say I appreciated all the sass, but you did blow up that fucking hotel, so.” 

“Fuck you,” Cherri said, “It blew up, I didn’t blow it up.” 

“Sure.” Val regarded her. “I could actually use a demolition expert on my team, if you’re interested. I know that was you blowing up all my shit last year, by the way.” 

Cherri flung herself over the desk , grabbing Val’s jacket, “What part of fuck you do you not understand?!” Val just smirked and pushed her off, getting up to walk to the sofa instead.

“We had a deal,” Cherri said. “Just because your stupid boyfriend didn’t use the book right doesn’t mean I didn’t do my job! My contract is over. You have to end it.” 

“I don’t have to do anything,” Val said. “The contract says ‘til I’m satisfied. I ain’t satisfied yet, sugar. Maybe I don’t care about the Radio Demon anymore without Vox breathing down my neck about him all the time. Maybe I care about something else now.” 

Cherri narrowed her eye at him. “You’re never going to let Angel out of his contract.” 

“So you’re not as dumb as you look.” Val leaned back, reaching for a cigarette. “Money makes the world go ‘round, babe, and Angel makes a fuckin’ lot of it. It’s not my fault he was such a desperate little whore that he signed with me. He knew what he was doing, and it’s only since that fucking princess and her stupid fucking hotel came on the scene that he started figurin’ he was some kinda victim. Well, he’s not, hon. Sorry to burst your little ‘bestie’ bubble, but he only cares about himself. Figured you might’ve caught on by now.” 

“Oh, shut up,” Cherri said. 

Val narrowed his eyes, and he was on his feet in a second, grabbing Cherri by the back of her neck and flinging her down onto the sofa, towering over her. “You were the one stupid enough to dump yourself into my lap for that little piece of shit slut down there,” Val said, “And now, like it or not, I own you as much as I do him. You’re not useful to me at the clubs or with the Johns, but I don’t look gift horses in the mouth, and you are useful to me in keeping Angie in line. So, here’s the new deal sugar – you get to go back to your old life.” 

Cherri hadn’t been expecting that, and she bit back a response in favor of a confused noise. Before Val could continue, the lights dimmed a little, and he pulled back, rolling his eyes. “Oh, great…” 

The office door flung open, and a very disheveled looking Vox stepped in, looking pissed. 

“Come back later, I’m busy,” Val said. 

“Like fuck you are,” Vox hissed, coming around the side of the desk so he could get in Val’s face, “You wanna explain to me while you sat back and did nothing while I got _blown into the fucking sky_?” 

Val shrugged. “What was I supposed to do?” 

“What – I – I don’t know!” Vox said, “Something! You could’ve at least thrown a punch!” 

“Nah,” Val said. “The Radio Demon rivalry is your thing, Voxxy baby. I got you the info, otherwise I don’t fuck with that. Not my fault you fucked it up. All I wanted was that damn hotel gone, and I got my wish – see what happens when you rush into things half-cocked?” 

Vox suddenly noticed Cherri, making to grab at her. “You! You fucking –“ 

Surprisingly, Val stepped in front of Cherri, grabbing and twisting at Vox’s arm to turn him around, away from her. “Don’t even fucking think about it,” Val hissed, “I’m sick of you grabbing and messing up my investments all the time! Don’t think I haven’t seen how Angel looks after you play with him, idiot – and I don’t like people breaking my toys.” 

“Oh, so they’re all yours now?” Vox said, “You know what, forget this – fuck you, Val. We are not –“ 

“Hang on,” Val held up a finger, turning back to Cherri, leaving Vox gaping for words. “As I was saying before I was so _rudely interrupted_ , you go back to your old life. I keep your contract. Maybe sometimes I need something blown up, maybe sometimes I don’t. Maybe you hear from me, maybe you don’t. Maybe if Angel decides to fucking step out of line again, I tear all your limbs off and make him watch. Got it?” He let out a little laugh. “Never woulda guessed I’d benefit so much from this – maybe I shoulda let Angel make more friends.” 

“Are you done?” Vox asked snottily, and Val’s smile dropped. He waved a hand at Cherri. 

“You can go. Oh, and don’t try to contact Angel anymore. I’ll know if you do.”

“If you fucking hurt him – “ 

“You’ll what?” Val smirked. “Make more Overlord deals? That’s been working out great for you so far. Get out of my sight.” He pressed a buzzer on his desk phone, and one of his club bouncers, a giant beetle, entered the office, grabbing Cherri from behind, dragging her out of the room. 

Cherri struggled as she was dragged past Angel’s room, wanting to say something, anything to him, to let him know she hadn’t just disappeared, but she couldn’t get free, and was unceremoniously dumped on her ass on the sidewalk outside. 

Cherri got to her feet, looking up at the studio. She could still hear Val and Vox’s arguing voices, echoing down to the street. She’d been wrong when she’d thought things couldn’t possibly get any worse. They were so much worse. 

She let herself drown in the thought for a minute, trying to see a way out and not finding one. Why the fuck did she have to be so impulsive all the time? That was what had gotten her tossed in this damn pit in the first place. 

Cherri covered her ears as the sound of radio feedback screeched through the streets; looking around, she saw other demons doing the same, so it wasn’t just her. Alastor was doing a broadcast. He hadn’t done a large, public broadcast in weeks. 

As she looked toward the Radio Tower, she felt hope inside her, like her feet finally finding purchase on solid ground where they’d been scrabbling for so long.  
Her impulsivity and recklessness were what had gotten her and her best friend into this mess. But maybe, she thought as she turned her boots towards the Radio Tower and started walking, it could get them out, too. It was worth a shot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You know that one friend who would jump in to save you from drowning while also forgetting that they can't swim? That's Cherri :P 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading, and as always, comment if you wish to! Back to Angel next time!


	8. The Casino and a Reunion

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys my job is so tedious and depressing literally working on this fanfiction is what I look forward to all day lol.  
> This chapter got long again. What can I say, Angel chapters are particularly fun to write.

It was late, and he was tired, but Angel didn’t want to sleep. His knee bounced up and down as he drummed his fingers on his vanity, full of nervous energy that he couldn’t shake loose. How long could panic attacks last? Hours? Days? 

Every time he tried to slow down a little, calm his thinking, take a breath, he was haunted by Vaggie’s words echoing around in his brain. 

_I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it._

It would’ve been so easy to turn back to drugs, to forget, to just blitz out and let his shitty afterlife wash over him, the way it had been before he’d heard of the hotel. Before he’d seen Charlie Magne’s stupid face. Before Cherri… 

He pulled open the drawer of his vanity. Sure enough, the stockpile of little bags were still there, just as he’d left them on the day he’d officially moved into the Happy Hotel. He reached for one, then hesitated.

To go back to drugs would be losing control. Angel already had so little control of his life left. The hotel was gone, Cherri was gone, and he couldn’t even leave his own goddamn room since Val had decided to lock him in the previous night after taking Cherri away somewhere. 

Angel wasn’t stupid, despite what other people seemed to think. He knew very well Val would be using Cherri as leverage against him, and if it kept her alive, Angel was more than willing to fall in line. Locking him in seemed completely unnecessary, but then again, Val did love to be dramatic. 

The spider groaned and bent over, gripping his hair, as the same four words continued their circular, judgmental march. 

_I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it. I fucking knew it._

He’d known Vaggie was a suspicious person, heck, he’d even known that she didn’t like him all that much, but he’d thought they’d at least understood each other. He’d thought he’d at least built enough trust that she’d understand he’d never willingly hurt the hotel, or Charlie. But apparently she’d just been waiting for him to fuck up, just like everyone else. Just like…

He shivered as he forced the image of Alastor’s cold expression after the explosion out of his mind. 

“Guess I was wrong, Nuggs,” Angel said, hiccupping as he tried to force tears down, pulling his pig into his lap, trying not to squeeze him too hard. Crying wouldn’t solve anything. 

Angel startled, sitting up straighter, as he heard the click of his door unlocking, and Val stepped through. 

“Hey, Angie,” Val nodded to him, crossing to his bed and sitting down, as if nothing had happened. Angel watched him, on guard, unsure where this was going. Val raised an eyebrow. “What, you don’t say hi, anymore?” 

Angel still didn’t say anything, trying to stay calm. He was sure the moth could hear the pounding of his heart in his chest. Knowing Val, he probably really could.  


Val shrugged, glancing around Angel’s room. “Geez, ya forget how to clean up after yourself at that damn hotel? It’s a disaster in here, baby.” His eyes narrowed slightly, and he patted the edge of the bed next to him. “C’mere.” 

Angel lurched to his feet, letting out a long breath before gingerly sitting on the edge of the bed, hiding a wince as Val put one of his arms around him. 

“Daddy’s sorry he had to lock you in here. You know that, right, Angel?” Angel’s brain scrambled for the right answer, and Val’s arm tightened just enough to be uncomfortable as he repeated himself in a slightly more dangerous tone, “Right?” 

“Yes… yes, Val. I know.” 

“Good. Just couldn’t have you getting in the way while I dealt with that little friend of yours.” 

Angel still fidgeted, crossing and uncrossing his lower arms. He knew Val was waiting for him to ask what had happened to her, but he didn’t rise to the bait – he was too tired, too emotionally exhausted to even bother with his part in this song and dance. 

If Val was disappointed that Angel wasn’t playing along, he didn’t show it. “I told her to fuck off home. I’ll call her if I need her.” 

One of Val’s other arms moved to tilt Angel’s head toward him, “But I’m not gonna need to call her, am I?”

“No.” 

“Good boy. We missed you, ya know.” Angel just looked at the ground, unsure what to say to that. Val kept going, ignoring the miserable energy coming from the spider under his arm. “I found something in your dressing room at the club this morning.” He reached into his coat, pulling out the note from the flowers that Angel had swiped onto the floor.  
“What’s this all about?”

Angel glanced dully at it. “Just came wit’ the flowers, that’s all.” It actually wasn’t unusual for Angel to get things like flowers and gifts from fans, but Val frowned, not satisfied.  
“It says ‘A’ on the signature line.” 

“Lotta people’s names start wit’ ‘A’.” 

“Mhm,” Val removed his arm from around Angel’s shoulders, “Like the fucking Radio Demon? Alastor, isn’t it?” His eyes narrowed suspiciously, “Summer told me she spotted him sneakin’ around the audience during your show. He’s never showed his damn face around here before, so what is it? You were fuckin’ him or something? That’s why the hotel seemed so great?” 

Angel shook his head. “Fuck, no, Val. He hates me…” 

Val’s eyes narrowed suspiciously and he got in close, not quite grabbing Angel’s throat but looking like he wanted to, “Don’t lie to me, Angel. You know what’ll happen if –“ 

“I’m not fuckin’ lyin’!” Angel shoved away from Val, moving to the other side of the room, putting the bed between them. “I’m not. He mighta sent me the flowers but he was… I dunno, messin’ with me or somethin’. I can guarantee ya that Alastor hates my guts right now.” 

“Hmm…” Val eyed Angel up and down, as if searching for some inkling that Angel wasn’t telling the truth, but after a moment, he shrugged. “I’m glad that hotel is fucked. It wasn’t good for you, baby. It got your hopes up too high – made you think you were something you’re not. You’re back where you belong now – back where people appreciate you.” 

He chuckled to himself, leaning back on Angel’s pillow, “And man do they appreciate you. I owe that hotel one thing – it made you exclusive. You’re in hotter demand than ever, sweetheart - I can charge ‘em three times your regular rate and they’ll pay it. Speaking of which,” Val slid off the bed, standing. “It’s late. Get some rest, darlin’, we gotta early mornin’ shoot tomorrow and you got clients lined up around the block.” 

The moth made his way to the door, turning to glance back at Angel, who still stood in the corner, arms wrapped around himself. “You can have your door unlocked again but if you leave the studio take one of the bodyguards with you. I don’t want you on your own anymore, got that?” 

“Yes, Val.” 

“Good. Glad you’re back baby doll.” 

Angel stood frozen for another few moments, staring at the door that Val had shut behind himself. His eyes moved to his bed. That fucker had laid in his bed. On his fucking pillow. 

Angel lunged forward, starting to scream as he grabbed the bedding, yanking it off, screaming as he grabbed the pillow and kicked it across the room, screaming as he grabbed the chair from his vanity and smashed it against the wall, scaring Nuggets and sending the pig oinking for cover under his bed. 

He didn’t stop. He couldn’t stop. A dam had broken in him and he couldn’t control the flow. He ripped wallpaper, he smashed furniture, he ripped sections out of his mattress, the fluff falling everywhere. He turned wild eyes on the drawer that held the drugs before screaming and ripping those out too, kicking the baggies across the room, causing them to explode and cover everything in a fine, white powder. 

When he ran out of stuff to destroy, Angel sank to the ground, putting his head on his knees, hyperventilating. Cherri had once told him something about breathing for a certain amount of counts or some shit last time he’d had a bad panic attack, but he couldn’t remember, his mind spun too much. 

Once the sound of things shattering had stopped, Fat Nuggets cautiously poked his head out from under the bed, sniffing around Angel’s feet. The spider carefully reached out to stroke the pig’s ears, “Daddy’s sorry, Nuggs… he didn’t mean ta scare ya…” 

Nuggets apparently had a short attention span, or didn’t care about Angel’s outburst, because he nudged against Angel’s feet, wanting to be picked up. Angel sighed, lifting the pig with his secondary arms and holding him. At the very least he could breathe again now. 

Something white sticking out from one of his ripped up pillows caught his attention, and he reached out for it, his fingers closing around card. It was the card from the flowers, Alastor’s card. Val must have dropped it on his way out. 

“I don’t get it…” Angel whispered to Nuggets. Alastor was pissed at him, he knew that, and he didn’t blame him. But then why bother saving him from the hotel at all? He could’ve just left him to double die. Deep down, Angel sort of wished Alastor had left him in the explosion – it might’ve solved a few problems. 

He flipped the card over, as if he were expecting some magical writing telling him what to do on the back, but it was blank. His face hardened, and he crumpled the card, tossing it into the center of the room with the rest of the trash. 

“Fuck it,” he said quietly. He might’ve just destroyed his entire drug stash, but, he reasoned as he dug his arm under his mattress, coming out with a giant bottle of booze, there were other ways to forget. To forget that the people who promised help never trusted him. To forget the confusing, conflicting feelings regarding Alastor. To forget how trapped he was, and how Cherri’s sacrifice meant literally nothing. 

“Bottom’s up, Nuggs.” 

-

“Wooo!” Angel spun around on his stool at the blackjack table, taking a sip of the drink in his hand before nuzzling up to the lizard demon in the fancy suit next to him, his client for the evening. “Whaddya think, baby, should I ask ‘em to hit me again? Angie’s on a winnin’ streak here.” 

The casino was big, bright, and loud, the perfect place for Angel to pick up business from Johns who were usually too out of their element and too drunk to try any shit with him the way scheduled clients often tried to. Plus, Angel could usually flirt his way into a John buying him some chips to play with. It was a win-win situation, that’s what he kept telling himself. 

“Go ahead,” the lizard demon smiled, slipping an arm around Angel’s waist, “I like a good winner.” 

As he moved to signal the dealer, Angel glanced up at the television units above their heads, ones that were scattered all over the casino. His smile dropped a bit as a muted news segment came on – he couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but he could guess, considering they were showing footage of the Happy Hotel blowing up again. 

It had been about three weeks since the hotel disaster, and the news just could not let it go. Not only did they seem to love rubbing Charlie’s face in it, but they seemed to enjoy creating new rumors about Angel Dust, too. That he was the one who’d blown up the hotel. That he’d tried to take on Alastor by himself (as if). That he was in a new relationship with Val. 

Angel hated that one most. 

True to his word, Angel had toed every line that Val set, but the moth still didn’t trust him, going through his phone and monitoring his social media posts every chance that he got. At least he knew Cherri was safe. He’d seen her, once, since the last time. She was in line buying coffee at their usual spot; he was passing with Val’s bodyguard. They made eye contact, and that was it. Later that night Angel had held up a bar and drank half of it. 

“Yo!” Angel waved to a casino attendant, gesturing at the TV screen, “Can ya turn that shit off?!” 

“Everything okay, sugar?” His client asked. 

Angel twisted to give him a smile, “’Course, big boy, just not big inta the news – “ he stifled a groan as the sound of radio static shrieked through the casino. Dammit, not again. He’d known he pissed Alastor off, but he didn’t think the guy would’ve held onto that anger for this long. But Angel couldn’t think of any other explanation as to why Alastor had started doing broadcasts every single night for the past three weeks, each one getting more gruesome and disturbing. 

What a creep. Angel couldn’t believe he’d used to think Alastor might be okay. That he might… 

Nope. Angel shook his head, knocking back the rest of the drink to get rid of that thought real fast, glancing over at his John. “Ey, forget the cards, eh? Wanna go somewhere a little more… fun? I gotta soundproof room upstairs.” 

“Sounds like a plan to me, cutie,” The lizard demon said, getting up and offering his arm. Angel took it, letting the other demon lead the way to the elevators, thankful when the doors slid shut behind them, muffling the sound of the radio broadcast. 

\--- 

Angel’s nights with clients were always different. Some were easy to please, some were little bitches, some wanted it rough, some just wanted to cuddle – these were the usual things. It was completely unusual for Angel to have to break his ‘whatever you want’ persona and end up kneeling on the client’s chest threatening him with a gun. This was one of those unusual nights. 

“Get the fuck off me, you crazy bitch!” The lizard demon shoved uselessly at Angel’s foot, which was currently keeping him down on his back. 

“I will, when ya pay up,” Angel said, holding a stack of money in one of his free hands. “This is a li’l light. Ya know Big Vee upped my rates.” 

“And I fuckin’ said no!” The lizard scowled up at him, “I gave you what you’re worth, slut.” 

“Ouch,” Angel deadpanned. “Too bad, sweetie.” He pressed the gun against the lizard’s head, but he’d forgotten about the lizard’s tail, which whipped up, slapping him in the back and startling him enough to lose his grip, giving the lizard the opportunity to shove him off and run for the door. 

“I’m calling security!” 

Angel huffed, sticking his head out the door to call after him, “Who the fuck calls security in hell, dumbass? Who’s bein’ the bitch now?!” 

Grumbling, Angel went back into the room, kicking the door shut behind him. Great. Not only did he not get all the money for Val, but now they were gonna have the casino bigwigs up his ass, meaning that would also get back to Val. Angel hadn’t actually meant to mess up, but if Val decided to punish him anyway, he knew he’d go straight for Cherri first. 

Angel sighed, looking at the stack of money on his dresser. Maybe if he worked a little more on the side tonight he could get the rest of what he was owed and Val would never know the difference. Assuming it didn’t get back to him that Angel hadn’t finished the job with the lizard. 

There was a knock at the door and Angel rolled his eyes, bending over to check the mini-bar. “S’open.” 

“Why am I not surprised to find you in here, spider?” 

Angel jumped in surprise at the familiar voice, hitting his head on the top of the mini bar. He straightened up, staring over at Husk, who stood in the doorway, arms folded. 

Immediately Angel’s breath quickened as he began to panic, but he tried to squash it down, giving the cat a shaky smile, “Husky, long time no see baby. What, ya workin’ security now?” 

“Owed the casino, not that it’s any of your business. You know you can’t be pullin’ weapons on patrons.” 

“Why the fuck not? He owed – he owed me –“ Angel couldn’t breathe enough to get the rest of the sentence out, and Husk’s hard expression dropped some as Angel staggered to sit on the bed, head in hands, trying to alleviate the tightness in his chest. 

Husk wrapped a paw around Angel’s wrist, pulling him up and out the French doors to the balcony outside, shutting them behind them. “Sit.” 

Angel sat, dangling long legs off the balcony, still hyperventilating, trying to put his hands over his face, but Husk pulled them away. 

“Open your eyes, start describing what you see,” Husk said. “Start with what’s right in front of you.” 

“Um,” Angel forced his eyes open, “The- the balcony railing.” 

“What’s it look like?” 

“It’s like, iron an’ rusty an’ looks like it’s gonna fall off.” 

“Good, breathe, keep goin’. What’s beyond it?” 

“The city. Some buildings, the studio, the – s-sign on it –“ Angel’s hands tightened on his knees and Husk shook his head. 

“Too broad, back up. What’s right below us? What color is it?” 

“The road… it’s black… got some cars…” 

“How many cars?” 

“I don’t fuckin’ know, they’re goin’ too fast, like twelve I guess…” It was working. Angel could feel his chest expanding, and it was becoming easier to take a breath. His mind wasn’t blanking out in fear. 

Angel trailed off, falling silent, staring out at the city for a moment before glancing over at Husk. “Wanna drink? The mini bar’s paid for.” 

Husk shrugged his wings. “Can’t say no to a free one.” Angel went to get up, and Husk waved a paw, going for the balcony doors instead, “You stay here and keep breathin’.” 

The cat came back moments later holding two bottles, passing one to Angel. “I woulda thought you’d be back on some harder shit by now.” 

“I ain’t been on PCP since the hotel…” Angel said quietly, rubbing at one arm. “Why – why’d you help just now? I woulda thought you’d be pissed at me too.” 

“Because I didn’t wanna hafta explain to the pit boss why there was a suffocated spider on the floor of this suite,” Husk said roughly, then softened just a little. “Plus… I been there.” 

“Thanks.” 

“Mm.” That was as close as Husk got to an answer as he lifted the bottle. Angel being Angel, he couldn’t let the silence sit. 

“So… um, you hear from Charlie or anyone? Is – is – are they okay?” 

“How the fuck should I know?” Husk grumbled, “It’s not like we all exchanged addresses after the fuckin’ hotel went kaboom. Even Alastor doesn’t need me for shit anymore, he’s too busy throwing his bitch fits over the radio. You and your little friend really got under his skin.” 

Angel flinched, glancing down at the road below them, spotting one of Val’s bodyguards roaming around, most likely looking for him. He sighed, setting the bottle down and getting to his feet. “S’been a nice reunion, Husky, but guess I gotta get back to work. Looks like the boss man’s lookin’ for me.” 

Husk didn’t move, frowning. “I saw her with Al’s journal.” 

Angel froze. “What?”  


“Your friend. Cherri. The night she came to the hotel, I saw her come out the back of the stairs with the journal. And then Val and Vox had it.” 

Angel’s heart started to thump, his breath quickening again, “It ain’t –“ 

“So they threatened her, right?” 

The panic dissipated, leaving only confusion. “So… so you… wait, so you know we didn’t destroy the hotel on purpose?” 

Husk inspected one of his claws. “S’pretty obvious how close you two are. Plus I been around that ass Valentino a coupla times at the casino, seen how he operates. Doesn’t take a genius to put two and two together – she got sick of him treating you like a toy and did somethin’ stupid, that right?” 

Angel’s jaw dropped. “Husk, even Charlie and Vaggie didn’t put that together… _Al_ didn’t put it together.” 

“Charlie’s a sweetheart but she’s an eternal optimist,” Husk said, “And I’m guessin’ you didn’t tell her everything about Val, right?” He didn’t wait for an answer, “Vaggie went along with Charlie, and Alastor… I dunno. Maybe he didn’t wanna see it.” 

Angel blinked a few times, trying to make sense of what was happening. “Yeah, she – she made a deal. Wit’ Val. I woulda told her not to but ya can’t really tell Cherri anythin’ when she’s got her mind made up. Guess it doesn’t matter now, I can’t talk to her or anythin’.” 

Husk glanced up, finally getting to his feet. “I can try to take her a message. If you want. I actually happen to know where to find her these days, for once.” 

Angel hesitated. The offer was tempting, but the risk was far too great, and he shook his head. “Nah. I really ‘ppreciate it, Husky, but Val’s got his ways of findin’ things out and I wanna keep her safe. Just tell her I’m all right if ya see her. That’d be good.” 

“Suit yourself. By the way,” Husk said, his eyes falling on the smaller-than-it-should-be pile of money on Angel’s dresser, “Casino workers usually share tips.” 

“Huh?” 

“You’re workin’ in the casino right now, aren’t ya?” Husk reached into his fur and pulled out a chunk of cash, placing it on top of the pile. “There’s your share of the tips. Now fuck off, you said your boss was lookin’ for ya.” 

Angel stared at the money, slowly reaching for it and sticking it in his fluff. That should be about enough to cover the night and satisfy Val. “Husk –“ 

The cat was already halfway out the door. “I said fuck off!” 

Angel stared after the cat before letting out a little laugh. Maybe there were some silver linings after all. 

\----

Val snapped his fingers, holding out an expectant hand. “Phone.” 

Angel tossed him his phone, covering a yawn and going to sit on one of the plush sofas while Val scrolled through it, pausing here and there to frown at things he didn’t like.  


He’d asked Angel to be in his office early that morning, meaning Angel had only gotten about two hours of sleep after his work shift in the casino the previous night. Luckily, someone must have silenced that stupid lizard, because Val was happy with the money and didn’t mention anything else about it. 

“Boss, mind if I just take a li’l nap here?” Angel asked, already feeling himself tipping over from exhaustion. 

“Sit up, Angie, I need to talk to you,” Val said. “If you’re tired just take something, there’s plenty of uppers around here.” 

Angel forced himself back upright, groaning inwardly. Yeah, real easy for Val to say, he wasn’t the one who’d been going through withdrawals for weeks! 

“Someone’s hired you for the week.” 

That got Angel’s attention, and he sat up a bit straighter. Although people had hired his services for more extended amounts of time than his usual hourly rates, it was incredibly rare, as most demons couldn’t afford it. Those of them who’d hired him for an entire weekend were usually basically royalty – no one else had that kind of cash. A week was completely unheard of. 

“A week, Val? Really?” 

“Yes, Angel, are you deaf?” Val rolled his eyes, then leaned back as a sharp smile sliced across his face. “They paid in advance, too. So you’re gonna be a good boy and behave for the whole week. I don’t care what the fuck they ask you to do – if they get their rocks off by murdering puppies, you fuckin’ do it, got it?” 

Angel nodded silently, and Val leaned across the desk. “And don’t think I won’t know if you try any other shit while you’re out of my sight, too. You’re due to go this afternoon – you can leave your phone here while you’re there. You won’t need it. If your client needs something they can contact me directly. Oh. And they said you can bring your stupid fucking pig with you.” 

That confused and slightly worried Angel. What were these rich freaks planning on doing with his pig?! 

“Go and get ready. Don’t wanna look like shit on your first day.” 

“Yes, boss.” 

\---  
Angel stared out the window of the town car, Fat Nuggets in his lap, feeling a quiet sort of dread. Usually he had some sort of control, some kind of upper hand with his clients. He didn’t know who the fuck these people were or what they wanted – they’d even requested that Angel arrive in their own town car, not Val’s limo. Weird. 

The car had taken him from the center of the city to the outskirts, a place he’d hardly ever been before. There were a lot fewer buildings, and occasionally he’d pass a mansion or a country house. The car turned into the driveway of one of these country houses, stopping right next to the door. Angel got out, unsure what to do. Should he knock? What would he say? ‘Hi, I’m the whore you hired for the week?’ 

He didn’t have much time to worry about it, because something hard, heavy, and moving fast hit him right in the side, knocking him flat on his back. His mis-matched eyes opened onto one, very familiar eye. 

“Cherri?!” 

“SURPRISE, BITCH!” The cyclops grinned from where she sat on his chest. 

Angel shoved her off him, scrambling to his feet, “No, no, no, no, no, you can’t be here, where are the – you can’t be here! It isn’t safe – Val –“ 

“Actually.” Another familiar voice. Alastor stood in the doorway, raising an eyebrow at the two, “You’ll find it’s quite safe.” 

Angel stared between the two, his mind racing as it tried to make any sense of the situation, as it tried to make any connection to any sense at all, but he was so tired, and so hungover, and so confused – 

The last thing he saw was Cherri reaching for him before he promptly passed out.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whaaaat, what's Cherri been up to for the past three weeks?! Guess you'll find out next time :)   
> Thanks for reading as always, and I've seriously been appreciating all your comments! I'm getting a lot of pleasure out of writing this story and I'm glad to know a lot of people like reading it too!


	9. The Country House Pt. 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a lot of comments last time that appeared to be just faces smashing into keyboards :P Are ya'll okay??  
> So here we go, what has Cherri been up to?

Cherri walked determinedly towards the Radio Tower, hands covering her ears to block out whatever weird shit Alastor was broadcasting about now. Her steps faltered halfway there; what, exactly, would stop Alastor from ripping her spine right out her neck the moment he saw her? Sure, she’d started to feel a little less scared of him, a little bit more comradery toward him, but that was before. Before the hotel had blown up; before Alastor knew exactly who was responsible for delivering the journal to the rival overlords. She could try explaining, but again, she had no guarantee she’d even have time to open her mouth before he decided to make sure she was strewn across Hell in many pieces.  
She paused on the sidewalk, carefully lowering her hands. 

The broadcast had ended – that was good, at least. Meant she didn’t have to listen to it anymore. She looked around, fidgeting as she tried to figure out what to do. Usually she just followed her impulses and dealt with whatever fallout they caused, but for once, she wasn’t feeling anything, no impulses, no jolt of energy or righteousness that moved her body into a decision. She felt wrung out – she didn’t quite have a name for it. Ironically, she thought, this was probably the sort of thing Charlie would be good at helping with. 

Thinking of Charlie gave Cherri another thought, and she twisted to look past the Radio Tower towards a different, more interesting building – Lucifer’s castle. If she had a little royal backup, it would definitely be harder for Alastor to destroy her without letting her explain. She took a breath as the empty feeling disappeared, replaced with a better sense of purpose. First, she needed to make things right with Charlie. Then with Alastor. Then find some way to help Angel. One step at a time. 

\--

Coming right to the front door had probably been a mistake, Cherri thought as she backed away from the spear Vaggie was angrily pointing at her – the moth had summoned it the moment she’d opened the door to find Cherri standing on the doorstep. 

“You have a lot of nerve showing your face here,” Vaggie hissed. “I should just run you through right now! If Charlie –“ 

“If I what?” Charlie, passing by behind, paused as she saw who stood at the door. Her face drooped. “Oh… just close the door, Vaggie. Put the spear down.” 

Vaggie growled and lowered her weapon, going to close the door, but Cherri moved forward faster, placing a hand on the door and strong-arming it so it stayed open. 

“Wait,” Cherri said. “I know you guys hate me and you probably have every reason to but I just need, like, fifteen minutes to explain. That’s it. Just fifteen minutes. Please.” 

“Yeah, right,” Vaggie scoffed, “You and your little friend Angel Dust betrayed the hotel. You completely ruined Charlie’s efforts! Why should we even bother listening to you?” 

Cherri’s eye flicked to Charlie. “Don’t princesses have some kind of obligation to listen to their subjects or some shit? I need help. And I’m asking you for it.” 

“Nice try,” Vaggie said, “But this is Hell. Princess or not, Charlie doesn’t have to do anything she doesn’t want to do.” 

“Wait, Vaggie,” Charlie stepped a little closer, placing a hand on her girlfriend’s arm, watching Cherri with curiosity. 

“Charlie, come on!” Vaggie said, “Your trust in anyone attitude really isn’t cute today. She _blew up_ the hotel!” 

“Not on purpose!” Cherri insisted, “And you were the ones who insisted you take my bombs to the office – if you let me keep ‘em, I could’ve locked ‘em up safer. So that one’s kinda on you guys.” 

Vaggie narrowed her eye. “You sold us out to Valentino and Vox.” 

“Actually, I sold out Alastor to Valentino and Vox, and again, not on purpose, and I could fucking explain better if you’d just give me those fifteen minutes!” Cherri argued, still pressing against Vaggie to keep the door open. 

“Maybe you should just fuck off –“

Vaggie was interrupted as Charlie stepped in front of her, her expression slightly harder than Cherri could remember seeing on her. She gave Cherri a single nod. “Fifteen minutes. That’s all you get.” 

\--- 

Cherri sat across from Charlie on a plush chair in the largest solarium she’d ever seen. It was kind of weird, she thought, for Lucifer of all people to have basically a greenhouse in his castle, especially one that was flourishing as much as this one. She watched as Charlie tenderly picked off a dying leaf off a hanging plant before she sat down, and considered maybe the princess had a lot more to do with the greenhouse than her father. 

Cherri cleared her throat and reached into her shirt, tossing a bag onto the table between them. Vaggie stopped her suspicious prowling behind Charlie’s chair to stare at it. 

“I, um, brought a peace offering…” Cherri said, opening the bag to reveal the donuts inside. She suddenly felt very self-conscious, a feeling she didn’t have often.

Vaggie let out a harsh laugh. “Donuts? Are you serious?” 

“Vaggie,” Charlie waved a hand, signaling her girlfriend to cool it. She turned back to Cherri. “Okay. Fifteen minutes. The clock starts now.” 

Cherri let out a breath, nervous. “Okay, so, you guys – do you guys know about Valentino? And… Angel?” 

“Valentino is Angel’s boss and runs the studio, right?” Charlie cocked her head. 

“Well, yeah, but… what else do you know?” 

“Huh?” 

Cherri sighed. “It’s okay, he didn’t tell me everything either, at first. And I think there’s still a lotta stuff he hides from me… but the thing us, Angel doesn’t work for Val because he wants to – he doesn’t have a choice. He made a contract with him, a long time ago, before I even fell.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened just a bit. “He didn’t disclose that to us.” 

“Why should he have?” Cherri challenged. “It would’ve made you even more suspicious of him than you already were – and yes, I know you were,” she frowned when Charlie opened her mouth to protest, “Maybe less you than Vaggie, but I know you were too.” She sighed, aware of her time running out.

“Anyway – Val treats him like a toy. A _replaceable_ toy. That night he came back to the hotel all fucked up…” Cherri shook her head, “That’s par for the course. He just usually used to come back to my place to clean up before going back to the hotel so you wouldn’t know.” 

Charlie’s eyes were wide, and Cherri didn’t miss that even Vaggie had lowered her spear some. 

“Why would he do that?” Charlie asked. “We could’ve helped –“ 

“Would you have?” Cherri raised an eyebrow. “Did you really want to help Angel, or did you want to just hold him up as a trophy to show how well your hotel was doing? Because if that’s the case, you’re just as bad as Val.” 

Charlie sat back, shocked, and Cherri grimaced, not having meant to hurt the princess’ feelings. “Sorry. Look. Bottom line is, I got sick of it – Val told him to lose some weight and it fucked Angel up and I just got fuckin’ sick of it and went and did something fucking stupid.” 

Charlie frowned as she started to catch on. “Oh, no… Cherri, you didn’t make a deal…” 

Cherri rubbed a hand over her face, “Thanks for the reminder. I was trying to get his contract, and let’s just say it seriously backfired.” 

“And Alastor?” 

“I didn’t have anything else Val was interested in. Only thing that got his attention was info on the Radio Demon. For his stupid-ass boyfriend, I guess.” 

Vaggie frowned, lowering her spear all the way, taking a step forward. “Why would you do that?” 

“Do what? Make the deal?” Vaggie nodded, and Cherri sighed. “Because, Angel’s my best friend. I wanted to help him.” 

“And what was in it for you?” 

“Eh?” Cherri frowned at her, “Nothing was. I just didn’t want him to spiral anymore. I’ve been watching it for years, and… I just want him to be happy.” 

Charlie’s eyes widened, and she sat up straighter. “There was really nothing in it for you, was there?” 

“Is there an echo in here?” 

“No, no, no!” Charlie started grinning, getting up to grab Vaggie’s arm and shake it, “Don’t you get it? What this means? It means there are demons out there who can be selfless for the good of others – and that’s the core of redemption! It is possible! The hotel could work! If…” she slowed down, “If it hadn’t been reduced to a pile of rubble…” 

Cherri winced, “I am sorry about that. But… I know who can help us fix it, and help Angel Dust… I just need your help first.” 

Charlie looked up, “Who?” 

\--- 

“No, no, no,” Alastor said, already going to shut the door of the Radio Tower in the three women’s faces, “I am certainly in no mood for visitors, even royal ones. Good day.” 

“Wait!” Charlie leapt forward, holding the door in much the way Cherri had done to Vaggie, “The hotel isn’t over!” 

“Considering it is a bunch of rocks, currently, I would say it’s quite over. Now I said good day –“ 

“It’s not just the hotel!” Cherri put in, shrinking back as Alastor shot her a withering glare that she was sure might kill her, “It’s… Angel.” She didn’t miss the split second hesitation of Alastor’s hand on the doorknob at the mention of Angel’s name, and she leapt on it, “He needs help.” 

“And you did kind of promise to help the patrons of the hotel,” Charlie said. “You didn’t specify that there actually had to be a standing hotel.” 

Alastor frowned at her. “You also ordered me to help as long as I desired to, and I must say after the events of the past few days, I certainly do _not_ desire to.” 

“Please?” Cherri tried, “You’re the only other Overlord strong enough to help Angel, and –“ 

“Why in the world would I want to help him after that particular betrayal?” Alastor’s smile had dropped. Not good. 

“First of all, that was all me so don’t blame him, and second, you could’ve just left him to double die in the explosion. You didn’t. Why’d you do that if you don’t want to help?” 

Cherri gasped as Alastor grew larger, towering over her, his voice glitching out. “If the betrayal was all you, then I ought to rip your –“ 

“Nope!” Charlie stepped in front of Cherri, causing Alastor to pull back, looking shocked and confused. Charlie put her hand on her hip. “She was doing it to help a friend. A redemptive quality, I might add. If you want to hurt Cherri, you’ll have to go through me – and I have a feeling my dad might have some questions about where the princess went.” 

Alastor blinked a few times. “Have you ever considered you might have been cut out to be a lawyer, my dear?” He shook his head, glaring at Cherri, but making no more moves toward her. “I believe my hosting duties have been quite worn out. I have a broadcast to get to. Good day.” 

Vaggie leapt back as he slammed the door in their faces, looking at Cherri and Charlie. “So what now?” 

Cherri grinned. “Oh, we’re not done yet. Angel’s not the only one who can be really fucking annoying.” 

\---- 

Cherri made sure she, Charlie and Vaggie were on Alastor’s doorstep every single morning until he eventually got sick of them and told them to leave, and even then made sure to hang around even longer until his shadow chased them away. She knew she was playing with fire, but after seeing Angel Dust pass the coffee shop with one of Val’s bodyguards one day, she became even more determined. He’d looked broken – and there was no way in Hell she was going to let that stand. 

Luckily, she had Charlie and Vaggie to help protect her – and during the mornings spent on Alastor’s doorstep, she was able to give them a clearer picture of how stuck Angel really was, and how he had been at the hotel. 

Valentino was a concern – technically he could drag her back at any minute and demand anything from her, but it had only been silence from the moth. Cherri doubted he’d bother with her, anyway, unless Angel fucked up, but he’d looked so defeated on the day she’d seen him that she figured he was probably trying to be on his best behavior. 

Occasionally Niffty would see them sitting out there and let them in – she’d originally been quite upset about the hotel as it was impossible to clean a pile of rubble, but she’d perked up when Charlie had mentioned a brand new hotel to take care of. They’d sit and have coffee until Alastor chased them away again. 

Finally, at the end of the second week of constantly harassing the deer demon, he burst into the parlor area where the four women were drinking coffee. 

“What,” he growled, “Am I going to have to do to make sure you three harpies never darken my doorstep ever again?” 

“Somebody’s pissy today,” Cherri said. “Are you upset because you can’t see Angel every day anymore?” 

“I – what – that is not – that has nothing to with this! And no!” Alastor insisted. “You are consistently trespassing on my territory, using royalty as a shield, now how can I make you _go away_?”

Charlie stood up, “If you help us get Angel Dust away from that creep and help break Cherri’s contract, we’ll leave you alone for good. I won’t even ask for your help in rebuilding the hotel – unless you want to.” 

“And if I refuse?” 

Cherri smirked, settling back in her chair. “S’pretty comfy in here, isn’t it, girls?” 

Alastor gritted his teeth, red sigils dancing around him as he clenched his fists, but quickly relaxed them. “Very well. If you guarantee that our partnership is completely done once I complete the task and none of you bother me again,” he said, looking significantly at Cherri. 

“I agree,” Charlie said. Cherri nodded her own agreement. 

“Very well. Now,” Alastor took a breath, “You ought to know very well that I cannot simply walk into that digusting pornography studio and demand Angel Dust’s contract, or Miss Cherri’s. I am going to have to have some time to conduct a better plan.” 

Cherri shook her head, “Angel doesn’t have a lot of time! You should’ve seen him… it’s only a matter of time before he just… gives up. And Val’s holding him closer than ever. We won’t be able to talk to him alone.” 

“Surely he goes out to be with clients, right?” Charlie asked. “Could we get him then?” 

“It’d probably get back to Val,” Cherri frowned. 

“There is one way,” Alastor said. “I am sure we could secure Angel Dust alone if we were the clients.” 

The women stared at him, and he held up a hand, his eyes widening a bit, “Not for his _services_ , of course! Just to get him far enough away to come up with a proper plan while ensuring his safety.” 

“He’s had long-term clients before…” Cherri said, “That could work… it’s gonna be expensive as fuck, though.” 

“You can leave that to me,” Charlie beamed. “And I think I know where we can bring him far enough away from Val’s network, too. A family friend of ours has a country house he doesn’t use much – I’m sure he’d let us use it!” 

“And yes,” Cherri said when Alastor opened his mouth, “We will leave you alone after. Cross my heart.” 

\--- 

Cherri paced up and down the foyer of the huge country house, nervous. They’d been waiting for the perfect time to strike; when Husk reported to Alastor about seeing Angel at the casino, they knew the moment was right. Alastor had placed the order on the phone using his radio effect to disguise his voice, insisting that he wanted Angel Dust for the week, and insisting on using one of Charlie’s town cars instead of one of Val’s limos. The less eyes reporting back to Val, the better. 

This must have been a strange family friend of Charlie’s, because the dude appeared to have many different portraits of the same three owls. Cherri stared up at one such portrait as Charlie entered the foyer, resting a hand on Cherri’s arm. 

“Nervous?” 

“Yeah…” Cherri answered. “I just keep thinking Val knows already and he’s gonna fuck everything up.” 

“It’ll be fine,” the princess smiled reassuringly, “Remember, we have Al on our side.” 

“Sort of.” 

“Sort of is better than nothing.” 

Cherri perked up as she heard the sound of tires crunching on gravel. “He’s here!” 

She peered out one of the large windows, watching Angel get out and look up at the mansion, bewildered. 

She was too excited, she couldn’t hold back anymore – Cherri raced out the door, cannonballing straight into her friend’s side, knocking him over, screaming something about a surprise straight into his ear. 

“Cherri!?” To say Angel looked shocked was an understatement. He started to shake, babbling about how it wasn’t safe. Of course Alastor chose that moment to show up in the doorway. 

“Actually, you’ll find it’s quite safe,” Alastor said. Of course it would be – he’d warded the fuck out of it to make sure nobody messed with them while they came up with a plan.  
Cherri turned back to grin at Angel, her smile dropped when she saw he’d passed out. She shook him gently. 

“Angel? Ah, shit. Al, help me get him in the house, will you?” 

Alastor hesitated, then headed over to them. “It’ll be easier to transport him with my shadow, I am not carrying him up all those stairs.” 

“Aw,” A weak voice came from Angel as he started to come to again, “That’s a damn shame…” 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay,” Cherri said, helping her friend sit back up. He rubbed at his head, looking confusedly at Alastor, then back at Cherri. 

“Am I hallucinating?” 

“Nope,” Cherri grinned. 

Angel nodded, frowning at his feet as he closed his eyes against an incoming headache, “Then you’re gonna hafta tell me what the fuck is goin’ on.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, and as always comments are appreciated if you wish to leave them!  
> Also I jumped on the bandwagon and did a thing so I'm on Twitter now as @Xingshou1, specifically for fandom/fanfiction stuff.  
> Thanks again everyone!


	10. The Country House Pt. 2

Angel walked with Cherri around the grounds of the massive estate. He still felt slightly shell-shocked, his brain working overtime to make sense of everything that was happening. Charlie had hugged him and told him she’d be willing to help after finding out everything that had happened from Cherri, but decided that the two friends probably needed some time alone and shooed them out into the gardens. 

The fresh air was helping his headache, and Fat Nuggets ran ahead of them, reveling in rolling in the grass that was so rare in Pentagram City. Angel’s hands still shook a little – it was taking longer to calm down from the shock than he thought it would. 

“You okay?” Cherri’s voice brought him out of his thoughts, and he looked down at her. 

“Oh – yeah, m’okay. Just still gettin’ used to the fact I ain’t gonna have to be naked for some rich fucks for a week,” Angel laughed a little, but it dropped quickly, and he used all four arms to pull Cherri into a hug. “Fuck, I missed ya.” 

“I missed you too,” Cherri sighed, giving him a squeeze before pushing away, “And… I’m really sorry I fucked everything up, Angel. I never wanted to hurt things more.”  


“What’s that they say ‘bout Hell and good intentions or some shit?” Angel said, reaching for a cigarette to hopefully quell the shaking in his hands. “It’s okay, Cherri. Y’were tryin’ ta help. It ain’t your fault Val doesn’t play by any rules.” 

Cherri glanced back at the country house, looming on the hill behind them, smirking when she saw a familiar red silhouette in one of the windows. “I think someone else missed you too.” 

Angel followed her gaze and rolled his eyes. “Oh, fuck off.” 

“Really! And I explained everything, so I doubt he’s mad at you anymore. I’m pretty sure he’s definitely still mad at me, though.” 

“What is it with you and Overlords?” 

Cherri shrugged, “Just lucky I guess.” 

Angel frowned, looking back at the window again, but Alastor’s silhouette had disappeared. “One a’ these days ya gotta tell me how you got him to help without gettin’ eviscerated.” 

“Basically by being really annoying.” 

“That tracks.” 

“Bitch.” 

Angel gave her a smile, taking a deep breath and holding it, trying to calm the dread that was still pounding away in his chest. Cherri cocked her head at him. 

“Are you still panicking?” 

“Mhm.” 

Cherri grimaced, looking around until she found a bench covered in vines, brushing them away and tugging on Angel’s arm to get him to sit. “There. C’mon, you know the drill – in for four, out for eight.” 

Angel groaned, dropping his head into his hands. “I just keep thinkin’ Val’s gonna find out. I mean… I’m gonna hafta go back at the end of the week anyway.” 

“No,” Cherri said firmly. “You won’t. That’s why we’re here, Angel. Even Charlie and Vaggie are on board! We won’t make you go back.” 

“It ain’t you broads I’m worried about.” 

“We’re gonna find a way out. Now, I don’t hear breathing.” 

\-----  
It wasn’t until past midnight that Angel really finally started feeling settled, that the fear climbing through his body started to dissipate. He stood at the window of his guest room, just enjoying even having a window again. 

His stomach clenched with a growl and he sighed. What he wouldn’t give for a drink right now, but whatever demons owned this house clearly didn’t use it very often, and Charlie being Charlie, hadn’t picked up any booze on her supply run. Angel hadn’t been planning on going totally cold turkey, and now his body was rebelling. Maybe food would help – he couldn’t remember the last time he’d put something in his stomach that wasn’t caffeine or alcohol. 

He was surprised to find the kitchen light on when he stepped off the stairs – he was even more surprised to find Alastor sitting at the kitchen table, a mug in front of him. 

“Hey, uh, sorry…” Angel said when Alastor looked up at him. His eyes glowed in the dark. Of course they did. “I can come back later.” 

“I don’t see the point of that,” Alastor said. “You’re here now, you might as well do what it is you planned to do now.” 

Angel nodded and skirted around the table, going to the fridge. There wasn’t much in there, but there was at least bread and peanut butter. He could work with that. He gathered the ingredients into his arms and took them to the table, sitting across from Alastor. He glanced up at the deer demon as he worked, “So… couldn’t sleep, or…?” 

“I rarely sleep more than three hours or so.” 

“Oh.” Angel blinked. He didn’t know where to go with that. Alastor tapped his fingers on the table, and Angel wondered if the overlord felt the awkwardness growing between them too, or if it was just him. 

“Ah… hey, Al, I wanted ta say sorry for the whole book thing… Cherri and I were plannin’ to tell ya but Val got ahead a’ us, and – “ 

Alastor held up a hand. “Cherri Bomb has already explained everything, no need to go through it a second time.” 

“Right,” Angel knew a shut-down when he heard one, and decided to eat his sandwich instead. He made a face at the first bite. “Ugh. Is one a’ the punishments in Hell no decent food or somethin’? I’d literally kill someone for some good Italian food.” He eyed Alastor, “Maybe not literally… s’been decades, though.” 

“I would think with your penchant for cooking authentic food, you would be able to cook it yourself.” 

Angel shook his head slowly. “Nah. I’m only really good with the sweet stuff, desserts and shit. Ya wanna zeppole, I gotcha. But try ta get any pasta out a’ me or anythin’ and I fuck it all up.” 

“What do you mean? Doesn’t pasta usually come in a box?” 

“Oof. That’s fightin’ words, Al. S’fresh-made or nothin’. My ma could do it… and my sister, though not as good.” Angel grimaced at the leftover half of his sandwich and pushed it away. His stomach still hurt. “You want?” 

“No, thank you. I’m more partial to… other things.” 

Angel rolled his eyes. “Course. How stupid a’ me. Shoulda asked Charlie to pick up the bloody peanut butter instead a’ the chunky. Well, next time, right?”  


He got up to dump his dish in the sink, turning to go back upstairs. “Sorry if I bothered ya while ya were… doin’ whateva ya were doin.” 

“Angel Dust.” 

Angel turned back, frowning a little at his full name. “Yeah?”  


Alastor didn’t look at him when he spoke, staring at a spot straight ahead instead. “You and Cherri Bomb are obviously incredibly close. I don’t particularly believe in the possibilities of redemption for a demon, but if I did…” those glowing eyes snapped to Angel, “I’d say the sacrifices you two have made for each other in the past weeks would count in your favor.” 

“Uh… yeah… thanks, I think…” Angel said, feeling his fur puff up a little. “Well I – I gotta go. ‘Night.” He turned and scurried back up the stairs. What was that about?! He shook his head as he entered his room and flopped on the bed – he was way too tired to think about the inner workings of Alastor’s mind. 

\--- 

Angel didn’t return to the kitchen until past noon the next day, having been left to sleep the morning away. When he wandered in, he was surprised to find Alastor still there, though now he was working away on something on one of the counters. Cherri, Charlie, and Vaggie sat at the table, watching whatever Alastor was doing with some interest.  


Cherri grinned when she saw Angel show up in the doorway. “Afternoon, Sleeping Beauty.” 

“Yo,” Angel said, grabbing a glass and filling it with water before hooking a chair with his foot and sitting down next to her. “What’s Smiles up to?” 

“Oh, you’re gonna love this,” Cherri smirked at him, and Angel narrowed his eyes at her, knowing that smug look all too well. 

“What…?” 

“He’s making pasta!” Charlie said excitedly, causing Angel to almost spit out half the water he’d just taken a sip of. “He said we could try some for lunch when it’s ready! I have to say I did really miss these group mealtimes!” 

Angel coughed up some of the water he’d just choked on out of surprise, staring over at Alastor. The deer demon was either too engrossed in what he was doing to bother listening to them, or was actively pretending to ignore them. 

“I must say, this foray into a new cuisine was much more… time consuming than I originally anticipated,” Alastor said, turning to face them and placing a bowl on the table. Angel peered into the bowl, curious. The homemade noodles looked okay enough. 

“Uh… did you do this ‘cause ‘a what I said last night?” Angel asked. 

“Ooohhh, last night? What were you two doing last night?” Cherri cooed, grabbing Angel’s shoulder, cackling when he pushed her away, his fur rising again. 

“I merely saw a new challenge and accepted it,” Alastor said. He checked his pocket watch, “I must attend to something quickly – please feel free to dig in.” He backed into his shadow, disappearing. 

“Huh…” Angel rocked his chair legs back to grab a plate from the counter behind him, tipping some of the pasta from the bowl onto it. He poked at it a second before putting it in his mouth, his eyes going wide. 

The girls stared at him in anticipation, meeting his wide-eyed gaze. 

“Well?” Vaggie said, “It’s that good?” 

Angel shook his head frantically, getting up to go to the sink and spit out his mouthful. “Bleh! That is literally the worst pasta I’ve eva tasted in my life!” 

“Oh come on,” Charlie said, “He worked so hard, it can’t be that bad!” She grabbed a fork, spearing a noodle from the bowl and placing it in her mouth. A second later, she joined Angel at the sink. “Oh. Oh-okay, that’s awful!” 

Angel, leaning on the sink, started giggling. “It’s so fuckin’ bad, how the fuck do ya mess up that bad? It tastes like floury goo!” 

“We can’t tell him!” Charlie said, though she was starting to laugh now too. “It’ll hurt his feelings!” 

“Seriously, he’s a cannibal, what does he care about feelings?” Cherri raised her eyebrow, “Then again, I’d rather not see him rip off your heads because he doesn’t like how you didn’t like his food or something.” 

“He’s going to wonder why we’re not eating it when he comes back,” Vaggie pointed out. 

“Then we gotta get rid of it,” Cherri said, grabbing the bowl and standing, looking around, “Um…I can’t just dump it in the trash, he’ll see it!” 

Vaggie looked down at the ground, blinking as she noticed the shadows elongating, a sign Alastor would be back in seconds. “He’s coming back!” 

“Toss it here!” Angel said to Cherri, holding out his arms. 

Cherri tossed the bowl and Angel caught it in his lower arms, using his upper arms to open the kitchen window and quickly dump the gooey pasta into the garden before racing back to the table, putting the empty bowl back in the center. 

A split second later, Alastor appeared back in the kitchen – Angel covered his face to hide the fact that he was laughing hysterically. 

“My,” Alastor said, blinking in what appeared to be surprise, “Did you all gorge yourselves so quickly?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Cherri grinned, placing a hand on Angel’s back while he desperately tried to hold in his peals of laughter, “He loved it.” 

“Oh, well, then I would be happy to make some more.” 

There was a sharp squeal from Angel as he put his head down, trying to silence his laughing. 

Alastor blinked at the spider. “Is he… quite all right?” 

“He’s fine!” Charlie leapt up from her seat, “Just… excited! Actually, Al, I needed to ask you about something… over here.” She glanced back at them with a wink as she guided the Radio Demon out of the kitchen, allowing Angel to uncover his face. He was almost crying he was laughing so hard. 

“This is so stupid,” he laughed. “I love it.” Finally he composed himself, though a giggle still escaped every once in a while. He pointed at Cherri and Vaggie, “This stays between us, got it?” 

“Got it,” the girls agreed. They all stared at each other before breaking into laughter again. 

\----  
Angel took a breath and stretched his arms over his head for a moment before bending down into a downward dog pose, appreciating the grass under his fingers. It had been a while since he felt calm enough to do yoga, but even after one day at the country house, surrounded by Cherri and his friends, cut off from Val and the studio, he was starting to feel some sense of equilibrium again. It was nice.

“What are you doing?”

Angel peeked between his legs at the familiar static of the voice to see Alastor standing there, looking at him.

“Exercisin’, what’s it look like? What are you doin’? If you wanted a betta look at my ass, y’could have just asked,” Angel smirked, straightening up and stretching his back before moving down into a triangle pose, holding his body weight up with one arm.

“I was investigating the garden. It seems very odd.”

“Oh yeah? Why’s that?”

“It seems to be full of pasta.”

Angel snorted as he tried not to burst out laughing again at the memory of the morning. “Shit, sorry,” he said, “Ya weren’t actually s’posed to find that.” 

“If it wasn’t satisfactory, you could’ve just said so.” 

“We didn’t wanna hurt your feelings,” Angel said, switching to his other hand. 

Alastor let out a sharp laugh at that. “Ha! As if something so minor would bother me. I do wonder what I did wrong. Perhaps it is the type of cuisine that one must be born to in order to actually get it right.” 

“Yeah, maybe,” Angel agreed, “If ya show me what ya did, I could try ta help ya, but like I said, I’m kinda hopeless at it anyway.” He let out a deep breath as he moved into a handstand – he hadn’t done that one in a while, at least not without a pole behind him to help give his feet some support. 

Alastor still stood there, staring, and Angel made upside-down eye contact with him. “You gonna take a picture or what?” 

“It is my understanding that this kind of movement requires an incredible amount of arm strength.” 

“Yeah, so? I’m a pole dancer, I’m strong as fuck, baby. Whaddya think holds me up there, dreams and wishes?” 

Alastor nodded slowly. “I have observed.” 

Angel slowly thunked his feet back onto the grass, getting back into a standing position, folding his arms. “So… ya were there. At my show.” 

“Briefly.” 

“And the flowers?” 

“As I said in the card, I had heard they were customary for such events.” 

“Uh…. Huh,” Angel cocked his head. “And? What’d ya think?” 

“I think you were correct in your assessment that that aspect of your job takes incredible talent and skill.” 

“Aw,” Angel couldn’t help the smirk, “Was that a compliment, Al? You did technically hire me, after all – I could always do a private show for ya, if ya wanted.” 

“Ah, no, no, that’s quite all right,” Alastor said, starting to take a step back, “The hiring was merely a ruse at the behest of Cherri Bomb, no need for any of your, ah – services.” 

Angel snorted, stepping past Alastor to grab a bottle of water he’d set down earlier, “Chill out, I’m just pullin’ ya leg a li’l bit.” He patted Alastor on the shoulder as he breezed by him to go back inside the house, “Learn ta take a joke.” 

Angel grinned a little as he headed back to the door. Despite not turning back to look, he knew Alastor was watching him go. 

\---- 

It was funny, but Angel was starting to look forward to bumping into Alastor in the late hours of the night. It had happened for the past few nights as Angel had grabbed snacks for Nuggets or just couldn’t sleep, bumping into each other in the kitchen and exchanging a few words of conversation. It was getting so that Angel would stay up later on purpose, listening for the scrape of the chair that told him Alastor was in the kitchen. 

One particular night when neither of them were tired, Alastor asked Angel to help with the supervising of another pasta attempt, to which Angel agreed. 

“I told ya I was shit at this,” Angel chuckled as he shook his fur, watching flour drift down – he was absolutely covered in the stuff somehow. 

“I had never known Italian food could be so complicated,” Alastor said, trying to line up a perfectly straight line to cut the dough. 

“Ah well, s’kinda fun,” Angel said, “I’m used to bein’ covered in white powder, but not this kind. S’different, at least!” 

Alastor glanced back at him, taking his eyes off his precise measurement of the dough for a minute. “…How long have you been ‘off’ the other stuff? Out of curiosity.” 

“Since the hotel,” Angel said, his voice becoming slightly more guarded, “And it’s been pretty hard keepin’ it up at the studio, lemme tell ya. It gets harder and harder to deal with Val when I’m not coked out of my damn mind. But I haven’t since then, swear. Can’t say the same for drinkin’, but there’s no way I’m doin’ some of that shit sober.” 

“I see.” Alastor glanced down at his cut-outs. “I believe these are ready to be dried, cher.” 

“Eh?” 

“What?” 

“Cher, what’s that? You never called me that.” 

“Ah. A common Cajun term of endearment.” 

“Oh?” Angel put his hands on his hips, “Like when you called me ‘your Angel’ that time?” 

“I –“ 

“That’s right, I looked it up,” Angel said smugly, “Bet ya thought I was too stupid to bother!” 

“As I said,” Alastor said, “I don’t believe anyone in this house or any residents of the former hotel are ‘stupid’. Some of them may be lacking in common sense… but stupid, no.” He cleared his throat, “If you would prefer not to be referred to as –“ 

“Oh, no, I don’t mind,” Angel said. “S’betta than a lot of other shit people call me!” 

Alastor nodded, getting to work at setting the pasta out to be dried. Angel flopped into one of the kitchen chairs to watch. “This week has been great. I’m gonna be bummed when I have to go back.” 

“I thought the entire point of this endeavor was so you wouldn’t have to go back,” Alastor said, not turning from his task. 

Angel snorted. “Yeah, right, wishful thinking. Cherri’s got good intentions, Al, but she ain’t a match for Valentino. He’ll drag me back sooner or later.” He rubbed unconsciously at his wrists, “And maybe I deserve it…” 

He jumped, surprised, as the tray Alastor was holding clattered into the sink. Alastor cleared his throat again, “My apologies. It… slipped. Now, perhaps it is not my place to determine what sinners do and don’t deserve, but I have observed that disgusting moth’s treatment of you and I must say, even for a sinner, it is quite extreme. Whyever would you think you deserve it?” 

“I signed the contract, didn’t I?” Angel shrugged. “He never forced me to do it. I… just… I dunno. I should’ve known there’d be more strings. Guess I’m just stupid.” 

“That is the second time tonight you’ve mentioned being ‘stupid.’ You are a lot of things, cher, but ‘stupid’ is clearly not one of them.” 

“Heh. Yeah, thanks…” Angel muttered, drawing a pattern in the flour on the table, clearly not believing it. “Doesn’t matter anyway. I know I’m stuck. I’ve known for a long time. 

The only thing I really want now is for Cherri’s contract to be broken…. I don’t want her getting hurt.” 

Alastor nodded, setting the tray aside and joining Angel at the table. “If I may ask you a slightly personal question?” 

Angel smirked. “I’m an open book, baby.” 

“You’ve obviously shown incredible strength and skill in body and in weaponry,” Alastor said. “And you do possess intelligence,” he held up a hand to stop Angel when he opened his mouth to protest, “I simply wonder – in all this time, have you never attempted to overpower Valentino in order to gain your own contract back?” 

Angel blinked, not expecting that. “What kinda dumbass question is that? I’m not an Overlord, dummy.” 

“I did not start off as one either.” 

“First of all,” Angel said, his lower arms gripping his knees tighter, “I’m not a fuckin’ psycho who made deals with devils or some shit to get power before I fell. Second of all….” He sighed, his voice getting softer, “What makes ya think I neva tried?” 

They sat in silence for a while, Angel still drawing patterns in the flour, Alastor just sitting there, apparently thinking. Finally he spoke again. “Valentino isn’t an idiot either. You do know he won’t willingly let Cherri’s contract go as long as it’s a tool to control you.” 

“Yeah, I’m well aware a’ that, Smiles, thanks for the reminder.” 

“I am guessing in your previous attempts you didn’t have any Overlord power at your disposal. You do now. So there’s only one option left.” 

“What’s that?” 

Alastor’s smile grew sharper, if that were possible, “Kill him.” 

\--- 

“Cherri?” The next morning, Angel stood outside the room Cherri had claimed for herself, knocking gently. He didn’t have his phone, so he couldn’t text her to come out. “Girl, I know it’s early, but I gotta talk to ya. I think maybe we gotta way outta this with Val… Alastor an’ I were talkin’ last night and I think he can help… are you awake?” 

He tried the doorknob – it was open. Well, Cherri had woken him up enough times by cannonballing into his bed, maybe it was time to return the favor. He pushed open the door, frowning when he saw the bed empty. Was she downstairs already? He hadn’t heard anyone moving around. 

Angel was about to go look for her somewhere else when he noticed a note pinned to the pillow of her bed. He grabbed it, eyes widening as he read it. 

_Got called back.  
Try not to worry I’ll be fine.  
Back soon  
Cherri  
XOXOXO_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're getting close to the end now folks! One more Cherri chapter, one more Angel chapter, an epilogue and we're done!


	11. The Capture

The country house was good for Angel, that much was clearly obvious to Cherri. After a couple of days his eyes were becoming less guarded, and his shoulders were losing some of the tenseness that followed him around everywhere. Cherri was sure he’d meant it as some sort of punishment, but she figured Val had actually done a good thing by taking Angel’s phone – now the spider couldn’t constantly be harassed by his stupid demands, anxiously checking his phone every ten minutes to make sure he hadn’t missed a text from his boss. 

Cherri was enjoying the time they got to spend together, too; usually they only managed to hang out together for a few hours at a time at random intervals when Angel wasn’t working, and of course once Val got wise to everything, it’d been weeks since they’d seen each other. Now they could hang out whenever they wanted, sometimes playing with Fat Nuggets in the garden, or spending some time with Charlie and Vaggie in front of the fire place in the living room. 

She was starting to feel closer to the princess and her girlfriend as well; the feeling of one united front to help Angel had completely overshadowed any previous animosity felt between them. It had been a long, long time since Cherri had had any gal pals besides Angel, and she was really starting to enjoy it. 

There was some other bonding going on under that roof that Cherri found… curious. The room she’d picked for herself was right above the kitchen, and she soon became aware that Angel and Alastor of all people were hanging out in the late hours of the night. She could only hear muffled snatches of conversation through the vent in her room, though as long as they sounded gentle and friendly, she didn’t bother to investigate further. She wasn’t going to invade her best friend’s privacy to eavesdrop, after all.

Sure, she’d teased Angel about the two maybe liking each other, but she’d only been joking. Still, Cherri figured, there was a very high probability that the little group was going to have to try to take on Valentino in the near future, and if Alastor was a willing participant rather than a reluctant one, more was the better for them. 

She hummed to herself softly as she lay under her blanket, scrolling through her phone. It was late, and she didn’t want to sleep yet, but yet again Cherri could hear Angel and Alastor’s voices murmuring in the kitchen, and she didn’t want to bother them by going down there. She put her phone down for a minute, staring at the ceiling, listening. She made out the word ‘pasta’ and giggled, remembering their frantic race to dump Alastor’s terrible attempt into the garden. 

Cherri’s phone buzzed, and she frowned at it, confused. The only person who ever texted her was Angel, and he didn’t currently have his phone. Her stomach sank when she opened up the text. 

Val: Demolition girl. Here. One hour. 

She kicked her feet up in the air, thinking for a moment before texting back. 

Cherri: I’m busy. 

Val: Too bad. 

Cherri frowned, about to text back some sassy remark about what Val was actually going to do about it, since he didn’t actually know where she was, but before she could, two glowing red bands appeared around her wrists. 

“What the fuck…” Cherri dropped her phone, inspecting her wrists more carefully. She held them up to her face, giving them an experimental shake, but they didn’t budge. She yelped as they suddenly tightened. Her phone buzzed again. 

Val: Like I said. One hour. Or it’ll be your neck next. 

Cherri groaned and rolled her eye. What a fucking drama queen. She texted an affirmative back to Val and got up, yanking her boots on. She scribbled out a note for Angel, hoping he wouldn’t panic too much when he found it – considering he was here and hadn’t done anything to piss off Val that they knew of, Cherri figured the moth probably did want something blown up and she could be back before too long. 

She didn’t dare taking Charlie’s town car back to the city, just in case Val was watching. Instead, she hitchhiked, arriving at the studio right as the hour mark passed. 

“You’re late,” Valentino said as she stepped into his office. 

“Um, you didn’t give me a lot of warning, asshole,” Cherri said. “It’s the middle of the damn night. Don’t you sleep?” 

Val frowned at her, but reached into his desk and pulled out a rolled up paper, handing it to her. “Here.” 

“The fuck is this?” 

“It’s a map, you dumb bitch,” Val said. “Or, more accurately, schematics of a rival studio. They’ve been trying to poach actors – that’s a big no-no. So we’re gonna teach them a lesson.” He pulled open a drawer, revealing a rather impressive stockpile of bombs, including the smaller ones Cherri often favored.

Her eye widened, and she couldn’t help but be a little impressed – what could she say, a girl liked what she liked. Val seemed to notice, and his voice took on a smoother quality. 

“I see you like that.” 

Cherri’s face dropped in disgust, and she took a step back. “Gross. Just – give me the bombs. What, you want me to take the whole building down?” 

“That’s the idea. Report back here when you’re done.” 

Cherri nodded, scooping up the bombs. She had to admit, it felt a little good to have them between her fingers again. She didn’t say anything else to Val as she took the map and the bombs and marched out of the studio. 

\---- 

“Stupid fucking piece of…” Cherri muttered to herself as she scaled the rival building and kicked in one of the vents, shimmying her way in. Whoever owned this place clearly didn’t have as much clout as Val, as it was completely unguarded. She didn’t even see any cameras. Idiots. 

She reviewed the schematic Val had given her for a moment before putting it away. She was inside, and she just needed to get to a particular area where several of the building’s vents converged – if she set off a large enough device there, it should set off a big enough chain reaction to take down the building. Of course it would be a scramble to actually get back out before the thing went off, but that was the type of thing Cherri reveled in. Piece of cake – just a shame it was for the literal scum of the underworld. 

She slid down the shaft as it started to go down at a steeper angle, undoing the vent at the end of it and hooking her leg across a metal support bar to hop across to the center vent. She looked down briefly at one point, but the rival studio was empty and dark for the evening. As far as Cherri knew, Val’s studio went twenty-four-seven, never shutting down – she’d seen Angel called to shoots at three in the morning before, if inspiration suddenly struck Valentino. This supposed “rival” studio looked like it could hardly be a rival at all. 

Cherri almost hated to blow it up, since it seemed like Val was just being petty, but it wasn’t her place to say at this point, plus she _liked_ blowing things up. She figured since the building was abandoned for the night anyway, it probably wouldn’t be too hard for these demons to rebuild – it would be a lot harder to do so if she accidentally double-killed any of their employees. 

She clambered her way up into the second vent, checking the schematic again to make sure she was in the sweet spot. Satisfied that she was, she carefully began wiring the larger device that was meant to set off a chain reaction with the smaller bombs she was going to drop on her way out. She pulled some wire cutters from her boot – she hadn’t wired a larger device in a while, and it would take a steady hand to ensure it didn’t just go off and blow her sky high in several different pieces. Very carefully, she undid the top of the incendiary device, delicately pulling out one wire, holding her wire cutters carefully in one hand – 

Her phone buzzed, and Cherri jumped, hitting her head on the top of the vent, her wire cutters clattering onto the metal. She held her breath, looking at the device in front of her, but it stayed dark – her sudden startled movement hadn’t fucked it up. Lucky her. 

She fumbled for her phone, filling with rage when she saw the text at the top. 

Val: Are you done yet? 

Heart still pounding with adrenaline, Cherri began to text back. 

Cherri: This is delicate work don’t scare me like that you lamp loving piece of shit – 

Cherri closed her eye and took a deep breath through her nose, deleting the text. She just wouldn’t dignify the moth with a response yet. Flipping her phone to silent to discourage anymore mishaps, she turned back to her work. 

Once the larger bomb was armed, Cherri began to back away, laying down the smaller bombs as she went. She navigated her way back to the outside vent, sliding down against it to take out the detonator. This was the actual delicate part – if she got too far away, the detonator wouldn’t work, but once she pressed the button, she’d only have about ten seconds to get out of the building and far enough away to avoid being taken down with it. 

She took a breath and pressed the detonator button down, listening to the satisfying _click click_ of the bomb preparing to go off – as soon as she heard it, she was up and out, scrambling back through the outer vent and clinging to the outside wall of the building. She leapt, meaning to get to the next building over, but the rival studio went up before she was fully clear – she felt a searing on the back of her leg as she hit the roof of the next building over and tumbled. 

“Fuck!” Cherri turned to look – the building was crumbling into rubble, so her mission was accomplished. She sat down to inspect the back of her leg – it was definitely burned. She pressed her fingers to it and hissed, standing up to see if she could put pressure on it. It hurt, and she could feel her skin pulling against the burn, but it wasn’t completely impossible to walk on. Considering demons healed up pretty fast, her leg would probably be okay by the next evening at latest – but that didn’t help her right now. Leaping across rooftops was definitely out. 

With a sigh, she clambered down the building she was on to make it to the sidewalk, and then began the long limp back to Valentino’s studio. 

\---- 

Cherri stood behind Val, arms crossed, as the moth looked appreciatively at the destroyed building out the window. “Good job.” 

“If you could see the building out the window, why the fuck were you texting me while I was trying to do my job?” Cherri demanded, “You could’ve killed me in the middle of it, asshole!” 

Val turned back to her, giving her a sharp grin. “You and Angel, you both seem to have a bit of an attitude problem. He’s been toeing the line recently – I suggest you do the same. You wouldn’t want anything to happen to your precious ‘bestie’, would you?” 

Cherri rolled her eye. “Yeah, right, like you’d pull him away from the rich assholes paying you for the week just to teach me a lesson. Nice try. Can I go now? It’s almost fucking dawn already.” 

Val regarded her for a minute, then put his arms behind his back, strolling over to his desk. “Just a minute – there’s one more thing.” 

Cherri huffed, trying to ignore the burning in her leg, shifting her weight to the other. She watched as Val pulled a familiar bedazzled phone case out of the top drawer in his desk, holding it up for her to see. Her stomach sank as she suddenly realized she’d just fucked up – she took a surreptitious step back, trying to nonchalantly glance back to see how far away she was from the door. 

“You know what this is?” Val asked, continuing before she could answer, “This is Angel’s phone. I took it when he went to the clients’. And I’ve been monitoring it for the past few weeks, and he hasn’t gotten any texts from you. So what I want to know is, how do _you_ know he’s away with rich clients for a week?” 

Cherri took another step back, and Val narrowed his eyes, pressing a button on his desk phone. “Vox, I need you up here.” 

“Okay, nope!” Cherri reached into her shirt, grabbing one of the leftover small cherry bombs that were her namesake, flinging it towards Val, spinning and racing for the door as it went off. She could hear Val’s angry yelling behind her, and the scrape of furniture – maybe the desk had fallen on him. She wasn’t about to stay and find out.

She skidded around the corner of the hallway leading to Val’s office, looking around frantically as she realized she didn’t actually know her way around the studio that well. Bothering with the elevators was going to take too long, but she didn’t know where the stairwell was. It wasn’t like studios in Hell needed to have emergency exit signs! 

A metal door in the corner grabbed her attention and she pushed her way through it, relieved when she saw a staircase. She started pounding down it, pausing for one second as the power suddenly went out, plunging her into the dark. Shit – that probably meant Val had managed to get Vox after her already.

Sure enough, when she got to the bottom of the staircase, she could hear Vox’s electronic voice talking to someone. She hooked her leg up onto the railing above her, hanging off it in a shadow, hoping it was too dark for the TV Demon to see her as he came into view, talking on the phone. 

“She’s definitely still in the studio somewhere, none of the cameras picked her up leaving. No, I don’t know where, if I did I would’ve – hello? Val? Ugh – AUGH!” Vox shrieked as Cherri swung herself off the railing as hard as she could, feet first, straight into his screen, shattering the corner of it and knocking him back. 

She shoulder-rammed him from the back while he was still off-balance, then booked it – she could just about see the studio door now – she was almost out – 

Until the wires wrapped around her waist and yanked her back, making her lose her own balance, dropping to her bad knee on the floor to keep herself from falling flat on her face. She hissed, trying to struggle out, but more shot out around her arms, effectively immobilizing her. 

Even with half of his screen cracked, Vox looked threatening as he pulled her back to him. “And where do you think you’re going?” 

\--- 

Valentino’s office was a mess when Vox shoved Cherri back in – quite frankly, she was surprised the walls were still standing. Pieces of the ceiling were on the floor, and Val’s desk was split in two – the rest of the furniture was covered in a thick dust of debris. 

“Nice try,” Val hissed as he approached them. He was more than pissed, grabbing Cherri’s chin to force her to look at him in the same way he’d done to Angel so many times. “So, you two little morons thought you could trick me? Thought sneaking around my back wouldn’t have any _consequences_?” 

Val shook his head, letting go of Cherri’s face, glancing at Vox, not commenting on the cracked screen. “Toss her in Angel’s room and lock her in there.” He narrowed his eyes at Cherri. “I think it’s about time you, me, and Angel Cakes had a little chat.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *record scratch* *freeze frame* And in that moment, Cherri knew she done fucked up.  
> Yeah, literally all of you knew this was coming lol.  
> Sorry for no Angel this time, but we'll be seeing LOTS of him next time.  
> Thanks for reading and as always comment if you wish to! See you next time!
> 
> (If you wanna find me on Twitter I'm @Xingshou1)


	12. The Confrontation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oookay a quick warning this chapter got a little more violent than normal and there's a li'l teeny bit of gore - I mean Alastor is here what did you expect lol. Alrighty, enjoy this long-ass chapter.

Dark clouds had started to roll in, the rumble of thunder and the smell of incoming rain permeating the country house. Angel sat on the couch in the living room, staring out the window at the incoming storm as he folded Cherri’s note over and over again in his hands. He’d found the note in the morning – it was now afternoon, and who knew what time of night Cherri had actually left? One thing was for certain. She’d been gone too long. 

“Try not to worry, Angel,” Charlie said comfortingly. “I’m sure Cherri Bomb can take care of herself, and besides, the note says she’ll be back! I’m sure she’ll be back any minute.” 

Angel shook his head. “I been watchin’ all day, princess… even if she did hafta hitchhike back, she’d be back by now.” 

“Just give it another hour or so,” Charlie said, patting his leg, “And then when she comes back you can yell at her for scaring you.” 

Angel continued to stare out the window as the rain began to fall. Light at first, then in heavier and heavier sheets, punctuated by lightning heralded by thunder. He flinched at each flash of lightning, wondering what had happened to Cherri. He wished he had his phone. Of course, if she was lying dead in a ditch somewhere, it wouldn’t help. He shook that thought out of his head, gasping in surprise as Alastor’s static-laced voice spoke up behind him. 

“I hadn’t known you were afraid of lightning, cher.” 

Angel glanced at Alastor, getting up and pulling the curtain over the window. “I’m… not.” 

“Then why pull the curtain? I thought you were looking out for your friend?” 

Angel hugged himself. “C’mon, Al. You and I both know she ain’t comin’ back on her own. Val’s got somethin’ to do with this, obviously. Best I can figure is either she pissed him off and he’s teachin’ her a lesson, or he’s got wise to what’s goin’ on here and is holdin’ her as bait or some shit ‘til I show up. And I got a real bad feelin’ it’s the second one. Even without my phone I’m sure he knows I’ll come lookin’ for her eventually.” 

“I hate to be callous, but then, wouldn’t the logical thing to do to not go searching for her? It seems like that would be knowingly walking into Valentino’s hands.” 

“It is,” Angel sighed. “But I ain’t got a choice. She’d do the same for me, and besides, if Val really wants me he can drag me back no problem. I’d rather go on my terms than his, y’know?” 

“Hmm… I believe I understand,” Alastor said. “Do you have a plan?” 

“Nope,” Angel flopped back onto the couch. “Not a fuckin’ clue. But – “ he glanced up as Charlie came back into the room, looking slightly more concerned now. 

“She still isn’t back?” 

“I fuckin’ told ya, Val’s pullin’ somethin’,” Angel said. “I know it’s exactly what he wants, but I gotta go back to the studio. If I’m lucky I can just get her outta there and make Val forget about her contract somehow.” 

“I believe I mentioned last night,” Alastor said, “The only sure-fire way of ensuring both yours and Cherri Bomb’s contracts are nulled is to kill Valentino.” 

“Whoa, whoa, whoa,” Charlie held her hands up, “Killing? Not just killing but killing on purpose? That’s gonna push you a long way from the redemption path, Angel…” 

“Like I was ever fuckin’ on it,” Angel snapped. “Be real, Charlie. We’re demons for a reason. Besides, if anyone down here deserved it… ya don’t know half the shit he’s done. To me, to the other girls, just… don’t sit there and try to shame me for thinkin’ Valentino not existin’ anymore might be a good idea.” 

Charlie took a breath, watching the spider for a moment before nodding once. “If this is what you need, Angel… then… we’ll help you. He’s an Overlord, so probably pretty dangerous… and powerful. Getting rid of him isn’t going to be easy, at all. Vaggie and I will help where we can, but neither of us are going to be powerful enough to really take him down.” 

“Not to worry, my dear,” Alastor grinned, tapping his microphone staff up and down in his hand, “I believe that’s where I come in. That lamp loving fool and his electronic nuisance of a boyfriend have gotten far too complacent, anyway. It’s about time they were _disrupted_.” 

Angel stared at Alastor. “Ya want in on this too? I mean… helpin’ me? I know ya mentioned it last night, but… I thought you didn’t do much if there wasn’t anythin’ entertaining in it for ya…” 

“And what could be more entertaining?” Alastor demanded as an audience applause track emanated from him. “A damsel in distress!” He disappeared, reappearing behind Angel to take his shoulders and shake him, “A dashing gentleman coming to her rescue!” He sank into his shadow and popped up next to Charlie instead, “The classic and constant clash of old versus new, strong versus weak! Why, it’s one of the oldest stories in the book, and I can’t wait to take part in it. The idea of ripping that blasted screen off Vox’s shoulders is simply a bonus.” 

“Aight, if you’re sure…” Angel said, though he himself felt incredibly unsure. Things were getting out of hand fast again. “In that case, Cha-Cha, we’re gonna need your car.”  


Charlie nodded, “I’ll go get it pulled around.” 

Angel watched her go, his knees bouncing nervously, before something occurred to him and he twisted back to face Alastor. “Hey, wait a minute – who are you calling weak?!” 

\--- 

The rain continued to pound Pentagram City as Charlie’s town car made its slow way back, streaking in rivulets down the windows. Angel watched two raindrops chase each other down the glass, lost in his own thoughts. 

He sighed heavily as the Lust District came into view, reaching over to tap Charlie. “Have ‘em pull over here – we don’t wanna get too close to the studio just yet. Val’s definitely gonna be watchin’.” 

Angel turned to Alastor, who was sitting beside him on the leather seat, humming to himself. “Al, you’re gonna be the one to distract Vox so he doesn’t start snitchin’ to Val that we’re here. Think ya can do that?” 

“Oh, with pleasure, cher.” 

“What do you want us to do?” Charlie asked, exchanging a glance with Vaggie.  


“You two stay wit’ the car – once me an’ Al are inside, pull it ‘round to the alley in the back of the studio. I dunno what kinda state Cherri’ll be in but we gotta get her out fast either way,” Angel said, “So that’ll be you two. That okay?” 

“Got it,” Vaggie nodded. 

“Then… I guess that’s your cue, Smiles,” Angel said. “Vox is bound to be in the studio – try to lure him out if ya can, but if ya can’t, at least away from Cherri and Val.” 

“Of course, my dear. Then I shall see you shortly.” 

They watched as his shadow pooled around him and he sank down into it, disappearing. Angel shook his head. “I am neva gonna get used to him doin’ that.” 

Angel, Charlie and Vaggie waited in tense silence for twenty minutes, nobody sure what to say to each other. Finally, Angel put his hand on the door handle. “Guess it’s prolly been enough time for ol’ Al to distract Vox by now.” 

Charlie put a hand on his arm as he got out. “Angel… we care about you. Please be careful. And we’ll be right here if you need us.” 

Angel paused, caught off guard for just a second before giving her his usual grin. “I’ll be fine, toots. He ain’t broken me yet, he ain’t gonna do it now.” 

“Okay… well… we’ll be here.” 

“I know.” 

Angel turned away, his grin disappearing as he headed into the studio. 

\---- 

There was no sign of Val as Angel made his way through the hallways of the studio. That was… odd. He knew Vox was currently preoccupied and so couldn’t warn him, but Angel had though the moth would be ready to pounce and taunt him. Had he misjudged the situation? 

He paused as he passed his old bedroom – he thought he heard a muffled voice.  


“-Gel! Angel!” 

He _was_ hearing a voice. Cherri’s voice! He went to his door, trying the knob – locked, of course. 

“Cherri? You in there?” 

“Yes! I don’t know where Val is, he’s waiting for you probably –“ 

“Yeah, I figured that one out,” Angel said, extending his third pair of arms where he’d been holding onto his gun, “Stand back, Cherri, I’m gonna shoot the lock off.” 

He waited a second to give her time to get clear, then fired at the door. It felt good to finally destroy that fucking lock. He pushed the door open to see Cherri grinning at him from behind the bed. 

“Hi!” 

Angel grabbed her, pulling her into a hug before looking her over. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt ya did he?” He paused when he came to the burn on her leg, but she shook her head. 

“That wasn’t Val, that was me bein’ stupid.” 

“Good.” Angel paused. “How’d ya know that was me out there?” 

Cherri pointed to his shoes. “Your heels.” 

Angel couldn’t help the small laugh. “That recognizable, huh? Vaggie and Cha Cha are outside with the car, we’re gonna get ya outta here now –“ 

“Destroying company property again, Angel?” Val said, standing in the doorway, holding the blasted-off lock in one hand. “Oh dear. I guess we’ll have to add that to your list of debts too…”’ 

Angel put himself in front of Cherri, watching his boss carefully. Val didn’t seem pissed, but that wasn’t necessarily a good sign – if the moth had moved past outward rage and gotten into his rare calculated, cold anger stage, that was way, way worse. 

“You know, I’ve been waiting for you all day,” Val said, strolling into the room. “It’s rude to make people wait that long, Angie.” 

“Kinda hard for me to know since you took my fuckin’ phone.” 

“Attitude,” Val shook his head. “I don’t know why I bother with you, sometimes. I give you everything, and all you give me is shit. Playing games. Sneakin’ around behind my back. It ain’t cute. And I’m startin’ to wonder if you’re even worth all the trouble.” 

Angel tightened his grip on the Tommy gun, holding it in front of him, like a shield between himself and Cherri and Val. 

Val glanced down at the gun, snorting as if Angel was simply a child pointing a toy gun at him. “What’re you planning on doing with that, Angel Cakes? You don’t have the –“ 

The sound of the gun spraying bullets filled the room. Val actually had the decency to look shocked as he looked down at himself, surveying the bullet holes in his torso that had ripped through his coat and were starting to leak blood. 

“Oh, Angel…” 

Angel knew that tone all too well. He reached behind him, grabbing Cherri’s arm and practically flinging her towards the door. “Cherri, run! Go!” 

Cherri staggered, catching herself on the doorframe, “But –“ 

“I said fuckin’ GO!” Angel screamed at her, and the cyclops took the cue, spinning on her heel and running for the door. 

Val made a grab for her, just missing as Angel tackled him around the middle, knocking them both to the ground as Cherri escaped down the hallway. 

Angel and Val rolled on the ground for a second, a tangle of limbs, before Angel managed to pull his feet back and kick the moth right in the face, sending the heart-shaped sunglasses skittering under the bed and making the pimp roar and grab at his eyes. 

He yanked himself from Val’s grip – the Tommy gun had fallen to the ground behind Val, too far to reach without putting himself back into the moth’s grasp. Angel had to abandon it as he ran for the door, now really wishing he hadn’t shot the locking doorknob completely off. 

Angel grabbed some framed posters from the wall, most of them featuring him in various stages of undress for promoting his movies, tossing them in front of the door. He knew it wouldn’t stop Val for more than a second, but he was banking on that second to get ahead of him. 

He couldn’t go for the main exit – that would be leading Val straight back to Cherri and the girls waiting for her in Charlie’s limo. He suddenly remembered a secondary exit, one usually used to load things into the soundstage portion of the studio. 

Angel burst into the stairwell, taking the stairs two at a time to get to the soundstage level. A second later he heard the door bang open again, the sound of Val’s own expensive boots pounding up the stairs after him. The spider picked up the pace, bursting into the empty soundstage. 

Despite nobody currently using the stage for a shoot, someone had left one of the floodlights on, causing everything to cast sharp, dark shadows. Across the cavernous room, Angel could just barely make out the exit – he’d barely started across the room towards it when Val flung the door open and stormed into the stage, sharp teeth bared in a frown of absolute fury. 

Angel panicked. Without thinking, he reached for the knife he usually kept in his boot, flinging it at the floodlight. He jumped back as the light fell and shattered, plunging the soundstage into darkness. He frantically searched the dim room, looking for Val’s silhouette. 

“Oh, Angel Cakesss…” Val sighed, and Angel’s ears pricked up. Sounded like Val was still across the room, good. “You shouldn’t have done that…” 

Angel took a step back, wincing as he heard the click of his heel against the hard floor. Why the fuck had he thought his usual heeled boots were a good idea? He ducked down, feeling around until he grasped the arm of one of the sofas that lined the stage, leaning back against it and holding his breath as he carefully reached to undo the buckles on his shoes and slide them off. 

“Where are you?” Val purred. Angel could hear his coat rustling as he moved forward, most likely also listening for any movement from Angel. “Come on out… you know it’ll be worse for you the longer you hide, you little shit…” 

Val’s voice was getting closer. Angel slid his second shoe off and placed it next to the other under the couch as quietly as he possibly could. He crouched down, staying low to the ground as he moved out from behind the sofa, trying to stay silent as possible as he carefully inched his way towards the door. 

He could hear the sound of Val’s claws scrabbling against the wall – looking for the secondary light switch. 

“What do you think’s gonna happen, hm?” Val asked, his voice seeming to echo around all sides of the room in the dark. “You try to run, then what? Gonna run back to that little princess and her pipe dream? It’s only a matter of time before she realizes you’re not worth helping, That you’re a waste of her time. A waste of space. And, just like always, you’ll only have one other place to turn. Besides, you’re forgetting one very important thing, baby…” 

Angel froze, feet from the door, as the room flooded with light. Val locked eyes with him from across the room – Angel didn’t even see him move as the moth shot across the room, grabbing him by the neck and lifting him up so his feet barely scraped the floor. 

“I fucking _own you_.” 

Angel choked, pushing at Val’s hands around his throat, but the moth had always been too strong for him. Val slammed him back to the ground, delivering a kick to his side, grabbing him by the hair and pulling him back up before the spider could get up himself. 

“Seventy fucking years and you still don’t know your goddamn place,” Val said. “It’s about time you learned it.” He flung Angel to the ground one more time, reaching down to grab him by the back of his neck, shoving him toward the door. 

“Val – wait –“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Val said, dragging Angel out the door and up the stairs – towards the roof. “You’re nothing,” he hissed at the spider struggling against him as he forced him onto the roof, dragging him to the edge. Rain battered them as Val seized Angel by the throat again, tipping him over the edge so his feet dangled into empty air. 

“I’ve been so patient with you,” Val growled, “You’re a worthless, good for nothing slut, good for only a fuck once in a while. I’ve wasted so much time on you, wasted so much effort on you – it’s time you start showing a little appreciation, Angel Cakes. Beg me not to drop you off this fucking roof and I might consider it. Do it. Beg me.” 

Angel struggled, his feet scrabbling against the outer wall of the studio, trying to find some purchase, some leverage, anything. He glanced down – that was a Hell of a fall. Even if it didn’t double kill him, it’d probably take at least a few years to put himself back together. Lightning flashed, and for a second, he could see into the alley – Charlie’s car was gone. 

Tears sprang into his eyes. He knew he’d told them to go once Cherri was safe, but something hurt about the fact that they weren’t still there. 

“My fingers are slipping, baby…” 

“Please…” Angel whispered. 

“I can’t hear you.” 

Angel closed his eyes, wondering for a second if it would be better just to let Val drop him. “I said –“ 

“Put. Him. Down.” 

Angel’s eyes snapped open and Val turned, surprised, at the sound of Cherri’s voice. She stood there, arms folded, leg stuck out in her usual defiant pose. Val barked a laugh. 

“You really are a stupid bitch, aren’t you? Coming here alone, again? You stupid, fucking –“ 

“She didn’t come alone.” 

Angel looked up – if he hadn’t still been being slowly strangled by Val, his jaw would’ve dropped at the sight of Charlie and Vaggie standing on top of Val’s promotional billboard.  
Charlie looked furious in her demon state, Vaggie looking ready for battle, clutching her spear close. 

Val raised an eyebrow. “Well, Princess –“ 

“You heard her,” Charlie hissed. “Put him down.” 

Val shrugged. “All right.” He swung Angel back over the edge, throwing him straight into Cherri, knocking the two of them to the roof tile. 

Charlie and Vaggie leapt down as Cherri disentangled herself from Angel, helping him up to his feet, keeping an arm around him as he stumbled. 

“Isn’t this a little bit of déjà vu,” Val said. “Same rules apply, though, princess – those two,” he gestured to Angel and Cherri, the red shackles appearing on both friends’ wrists, “Belong to me. Ain’t nothin’ you can do about that, no matter what sob story Angel Cakes poured down your throat.” 

Val shook his head, snapping his fingers, causing the red cuffs to drag both Angel and Cherri to him, grabbing them roughly, “If I were you, little girl, I’d go and forget I saw anything, otherwise it could get bad for you. I don’t care who your daddy is.” 

“Maybe we can work something out,” Charlie tried. 

Val chuckled at that. “Yeah. Right, sure. How’s this? You go the fuck away and leave my property alone.” 

Angel flinched at that. He was so tired of everyone talking about him like he wasn’t there, like he was a toy, like some kind of object to be passed around at will. Rage bubbled through him and he opened his mouth, sharp teeth dripping with venom. 

“I ain’t your fucking property!” Angel sank his teeth down, hard, into Val’s arm, earning a satisfying roar of pain from the moth, shoving Angel away from him, chest heaving as he narrowed his eyes at the spider. 

“You really must be fuckin’ stupid, Angel,” Valentino growled, dragging Cherri further away, glancing at her. “I don’t have much more use for you – time to see if there really is a double Hell.” 

Vaggie and Charlie’s screams joined Angel’s as Val shoved Cherri off the roof. 

“CHERRI!” Angel’s mind went blank. The only thing he could focus on was the edge of the roof that Cherri had just disappeared over. He tried to run to it, wanting to look over, hoping against hope that she was okay, somehow, somehow she had to be okay --- 

Val got in his path, but was knocked away immediately by Vaggie, holding her spear to the moth’s chest, threatening. “Don’t you dare.” 

“Fucking try it, cunt,” Val snarled, “I’ll rip you a new one and shove your girlfriend’s head up it while you’re still conscious to watch.” 

Angel started to crawl back towards the edge, but the sudden screech of radio feedback as Alastor manifested made him have to pause and hold his ears. Alastor was holding something square in his hands, shaking his head. “Now, now, now, that is simply _no_ way to talk to a lady. I would ask if you were raised in a barn, but that seems a little too high-brow for the likes of you.” 

Val snarled, “This is none of your business, Radio Demon.” 

“Actually,” Alastor said, “You’ll find it rather has become my business.” He tossed the square object he’d been holding at Val’s feet – it wasn’t just something square, Angel realized, it was a head. _Vox’s head_. Val took a step back, speechless for once. 

“Tearing him apart was fascinating, perhaps not as entertaining as I’d hoped but certainly enough to sate one’s curiosity,” Alastor said evenly, as if he were discussing the weather, “How fascinating that his wires went through his whole body and that they _bleed when you pull them out_.” 

“You fucking piece of –“ Whatever insult Val was about to hurl at Alastor turned into a wet, choking gurgle as Alastor slashed a hand through the air and a black shadow solidified and impaled Val from the back, making the moth stumble and fall to his knees. Red sigils danced around Alastor’s head as he clenched his fist, twisting the shadow into Val’s gut, blood spilling onto the roof. 

His glowing eyes snapped over to Angel, who was staring at him from the ground, “I believe you were going to check on your friend, my dear?” 

Angel shook himself out of his trance as Alastor’s comment brought him crashing back to reality. Cherri. As he bent over the edge, he vaguely heard Alastor addressing Charlie and Vaggie, telling them it would be good to also join Angel in his search and maybe not stare at him while he dealt with Valentino. 

Valentino said something – or at least tried to - and Alastor answered, but Angel couldn’t hear any of it – everything was becoming muffled, a gentle ringing in his ears as he desperately tried to see below, to see any sign of Cherri, but it was simply too far down to see. A sob climbed out of his throat. A hand on his shoulder – Charlie. 

“I don’t… I can’t… see her,” Angel said. 

“Angel, I’m so –“ 

“Wait a minute,” Vaggie said, pointing with her spear. Right below them, protected and slightly hidden from view by the overhang caused by Val’s billboard, was a small ledge about fifty feet down. A ledge on top of which lay a very familiar demon. 

“Cherri! Cherri, Cherri, Cherri, Cherri!” Angel clung to the side of the building, carefully guiding himself down, suddenly happy he’d left his shoes in the studio, as his spider feet provided much better traction. He clambered his way down, hitting his knees next to her once he was on the ledge, grabbing at her shoulder. “Cherri…?” 

“Let go, Angel, that fuckin’ hurts,” Cherri hissed, her one eye opening to look at him. 

“Holy fuck, you’re alive,” Angel said, yanking her to him in a hug, earning a yelp from his friend. 

“The fuck did I just say?!” 

Angel let go, holding up his hands, “Sorry, sorry – look, I’m gonna help ya get back up, okay, we’re gonna get Charlie and Vaggie and get outta here, I promise, _how the fuck are you alive_?” 

“I jump off buildings all damn day,” Cherri said, taking a pained breath before grinning at Angel, “And I would have been fine, except,” she gestured to her burned leg, “Forgot to account for that and fell harder than I – I wanted to,” she paused, putting a hand to her head. “Fell pretty hard, actually…”  
“Just hang in there,” Angel said, “Al’s here, he’ll hold Val off while we get ya back up there…” 

Cherri just nodded, her head moving to rest against Angel’s shoulder, clearly dazed. Angel extended his third pair of arms to lift her onto his back piggy-back style, using his primary and secondary arms to climb the short way back up. Once they were close enough, Charlie and Vaggie bent down to pull them the rest of the way. 

Angel felt Cherri clinging to him – it was very possible he was the only thing currently keeping her upright. “She ain’t in a great way,” Angel said to the princess and the moth watching him, “We gotta get her… somewhere… else…” 

He was distracted by the strangled screams coming from across the roof. It occurred to him he’d never heard Val scream before. If he squinted through the rain, he could just about see Alastor ripping an arm off – a discarded arm already lay nearby. 

“That is one of the most entertaining things about these insect-like demons,” Alastor was saying, whether to himself or to Valentino writhing on the ground, Angel wasn’t sure, “There are always so many limbs to _rip off_.” The deer turned, red sigils fading a bit as he noticed the little group staring at him. 

“Ah, excellent, Miss Vaggie, just who I needed,” Alastor said, “If you would be so kind as to lend me that handy Heavenly spear of yours, that should just about do the trick.”  
Vaggie hesitated, shooting a questioning look towards Charlie, who hesitated. She looked away for a minute before giving a tiny nod. She passed the spear over – and Angel was more than surprised when Alastor flipped it around, offering the handle to the spider. 

“Considering the circumstances,” Alastor said, “It’s only fair that Angel Dust should be offered the chance of delivering the final blow… should he wish to do so.” 

Angel stared at the spear handle being offered to him. He’d dreamed about that very possibility for years, decades. Finally giving Val what he deserved after years of shit and abuse… 

Cherri slumped further in his arms, and Angel tightened them to keep her from falling to the ground, closing his eyes as he made a decision. “Thanks for the thought, but… I gotta get Cherri here somewhere safe pretty fast, she’s losin’ it.” 

“And we’ll help!” Charlie said quickly, clearly not wanting to watch anymore of what Alastor had planned. 

Alastor raised an eyebrow, but his grin didn’t drop, “Very well, then, cher – tend to your friend. I will catch up with you just as soon as I’m done with this… _obligation_.” 

Angel didn’t say anything else as he lifted Cherri into his arms – the girl was losing consciousness, it was just easier this way – and led Charlie and Vaggie back to the stairwell. He didn’t look back, and he didn’t flinch when the sound of metal squelching through skull followed them out. 

\---- 

Angel sat on a chair in a quiet, darkened room in an out of the way corner of Lucifer’s castle. Charlie had let them have this room for Cherri to recover, and now he sat and watched as his friend slept, just like she’d done for him so many times. 

He knew Valentino was dead. Alastor wasn’t back yet, but Angel had felt it – like an entire weight had been lifted off his soul. He wondered if Cherri felt it too. 

The feeling was strange. He’d spent so many decades cowering in fear from the Overlord, hating himself for signing the contract, trying to stay in the moth’s good graces but constantly fucking up, and now all of that was gone. With Vox out of the picture, too, Angel vaguely wondered who would take over the major porn studio – power vacuums in Hell never lasted very long. 

Angel sat up straighter as Cherri shifted, mumbling, clearly still somewhat out of it. “Angie…?” 

“I’m here.” 

“It’s dark in here. S’someone sick or somethin’?” 

“Sort of… go back to sleep, Cherri.” 

Cherri obliged, snuggling into the pillow before disappearing into sleep again. A few moments later, Charlie knocked softly on the door. 

“How’s she doing?” 

Angel rocked back in his chair, giving the princess a small smile. “She’ll be okay. Y’know demons. Heal up fast.” 

Charlie nodded, stepping further into the room. “Angel… I know this has been hard for you. Everything with Valentino, and… I just… I wanted to tell you how proud I am of you.” 

Angel blinked, uncomprehending. “Eh?” 

Charlie clasped her hands in front of her. “If you had wanted to… be the one to kill Valentino… I wouldn’t have blamed you. At all. In fact, in your shoes, I’m not sure that I wouldn’t have done it. You chose your best friend over revenge.” Now it was her turn to smile, “If that’s not a ‘redeeming quality’, I don’t know what is.” 

Angel watched her for a moment before his smile widened into a genuine one. “Thanks, Cha-Cha – er, Charlie. An’ by the way, I’d love to see you even _try_ to walk around in _my_ shoes.” 

Charlie chuckled a little bit, “It might take some practice. I’m gonna go catch up with Vaggie upstairs. Are you two okay for now?” 

“Yeah,” Angel said, “We’re okay. Might catch up wit’ ya later.” 

Charlie nodded and headed out, gently closing the door behind her. Angel turned back to watch Cherri, finally placing his chair back down on all four legs. 

“We’re okay.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wait, wait, don't go! We still have an epilogue left to get through! :) 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, thank you so much for your kind comments this far, and feel free to comment or continue commenting if you wish to!


	13. Epilogue

The Happy Hotel Mark Two was under construction. Sort of. 

Alastor had offered to help rebuild the hotel as it had been – doing so wasn’t totally outside the realm of his powers, and it would be quite a bit less of a financial burden than if Charlie wanted to have it rebuilt the traditional way. Charlie took him up on it, but only to a point. Once the main groundwork and interior and exterior infrastructures were complete, she’d stopped him, deciding that the tenants of the hotel should work together to finish the fine details and the decorations as a way of team building. 

Angel was more than happy to come back, and Charlie was happy to have him, both because of the great strides he’d been making in possible redemption, and also because she didn’t want to have to explain the havoc he’d been wreaking in Lucifer’s castle to her father. 

The spider in question sat draped across a sofa covered with a dust-cloth in the soon-to-be hotel lobby, playing some sort of game with Cherri. Charlie had been surprised when Cherri Bomb had legitimately approached her about joining the hotel, citing she wanted to keep her eye on Angel, but whatever the reason, Charlie was thrilled to have her, and under legitimate circumstances instead of spurious ones. 

“What the fuck are you two doing?” Husk snapped at the friends on the couch as he lined up a nail with a hammer to secure the final piece of the newly built bar. “Aren’t you supposed to be helping?” 

It had been easy to get Husk back – whatever debt he’d owed at the casino was quickly taken care of by Alastor, and despite the cat’s constant bitching, he seemed willing enough with the rebuilding of the hotel, even offering some carpentry tricks and pointers of his own. 

“We’re holdin’ our hands out and tryin’ to slap ‘em before the other person pulls ‘em away,” Angel said, as if Husk were an idiot for asking, “Why? Ow!” He jumped as Cherri slapped the backs of his hands while he was distracted. She smirked at him. 

“Two for flinching!” 

“You are supposed to be helping, Angel,” Charlie said gently from where she and Vaggie were working together to unroll a large, heavy carpet in the atrium. 

Angel groaned and went limp on the couch, “But I’m not good at this construction stuff! I ain’t cut out for it, I’m gay!” 

“I… don’t think that’s really an excuse,” Charlie said, trying to look exasperated and failing. 

“Did you forget you volunteered for this?” Vaggie raised her eyebrows. 

“Nooo…” Angel said. “Can’t Al just do his hoodoo shit and, like, make it good?” 

“Tell you what,” Vaggie said, “If you and Cherri help Husk paint the bar, then you won’t forfeit your privileges to decorate your room. Yeah, I’m thinking some nice neon green and orange would look good in there…” 

Angel sat straight up, eyes going wide. “Ooh, you are evil.” 

“Get going,” Vaggie said, though it was with a smile. 

Angel dragged himself up, grabbing a paint can. “Ugh, I hate you.” 

“No, you don’t.” 

He didn’t. 

\--- 

There was still a lot of finishing work to do on the interior of the hotel, but Alastor had ensured that the first thing to be completed was the kitchen, and Charlie insisted on everyone sitting down and having a meal together when it was time to have a break. 

Angel had actually enthusiastically volunteered to help with the cooking this time, and he and Alastor spent a good few hours in the kitchen together, refusing to let anyone in as they worked on the meal. Charlie mentioned to Cherri Bomb that she’d noticed Angel and Alastor spending more time together on break times, and asked if there was something going on, to which Cherri had laughed and said if Angel wanted to be vocal about it, he would be eventually – _very_ vocal. Charlie decided not to push it, instead being happy that the two seemed to be getting along. 

Everyone sat at the large dining table, watching as Angel proudly brought out a giant tray. 

“Well, we didn’t really have time to do actual fresh pasta for ya,” Angel said, “But ya can’t really go wrong with a giant-ass lasagna.” 

Alastor followed him in, placing a huge bowl of salad on the table too, straightening up and looking around. “Well, I would certainly say that this little band of misfits coming back together again after such drama would count as a special occasion, no? And certainly we wouldn’t want to spend this special occasion covered in dust, no, no, no, we must be properly dressed!” 

Angel took a step back, “If ya put me in that suit again I swear to fuckin’ God –“ 

Alastor snapped his fingers and Angel shut up as he looked down at himself – his usual outfit was gone, replaced by a floor length dusty pink gown, dripping with fringe and a glittering spiderweb pattern on the front. 

“Better?” 

“Mm…” Angel smirked as he twisted to get a better look at his own ass, “Now this I could get used to!” 

“I’m actually jealous, and I don’t usually do dresses,” Cherri smirked as Angel took a seat next to her. 

Alastor sighed, shaking his head, “Such demands – I expect you’d prefer a suit, Miss Cherri?” 

“No, no, no,” Cherri laughed, “Not this time – your dress choice is fine, Al.” 

There was a comfortable silence as everyone started eating. Everyone was tired, but it was a satisfying sort of tired that came from a day of working together. Nobody said anything until Charlie turned to ask Alastor a question, and found his eyes glazed over with static. 

Angel blinked, waving a hand in front of the deer’s face. “Al? Alastor? Hellooo?” 

The static was replaced by pupils in a snap, Alastor shaking his head, “I do apologize, my dear, how very rude of me. I was simply attempting to check in on that studio of yours – I find it very odd that no one has yet attempted to claim new Overlord status over there. Still, that doesn’t account for my rudeness, I’ll try not to be in two places at once during dinner.” 

Angel snorted, “Shows what ya know, Smiles. Just ‘cause no one’s stepped in to fill his shoes don’t mean things aren’t workin’ ova there like they usually do. All the girls there formed a board, the employees are runnin’ shit now, sorta like a co-op. It’s nice actually, since they get to keep all the money and all. I been helpin’ ‘em reinvest some of it inta the studio – class it up a little bit, get rid a’ Val’s stupid tacky shit, add more to the club, that sorta stuff.” 

“You have?” Cherri blinked at him. 

“Er, yeah…” Angel said, “Sorry if that’s not in my ‘redemption plan’ or whateva but I’ve been workin’ wit’ those girls a long time, and –“ 

“No, no, no,” Charlie shook her head, “Angel, that’s great.” 

“You’re not ‘disappointed’?” Angel asked, making air quotes with his fingers, and Charlie shook her head. 

“Of course not! I think it’s great you and the other employees are close enough that you found a way to work together,” Charlie said, then leaned over into Angel’s space, “Pluuus, if you know, you waa-aanted to mention the Hotel to them….” 

Angel huffed a laugh, using his second arms to push Charlie away, “Nice try, princess. I’ll hafta say it’s a solid ‘maybe.’ “ 

“It occurs to me that there is someone quite well known within that industry who would have the experience and knowledge to take over quite successfully as Overlord, though perhaps without the sociopathic aspects,” Alastor said. 

“Oh yeah?” Angel glanced up, “Who’s that?” He shook his head at the look Alastor was giving him, “Ohhh no. Nope, you can get that idea outta your head right now. Just ‘cause I still dance ova there doesn’t mean I wanna start runnin’ the whole thing. I’d be shit at it anyway.” 

“I think you’d be good at it, Angie,” Cherri said, “You wouldn’t treat the girls like shit.” 

Angel groaned, putting his head in his hands as Charlie jumped on the bandwagon, “And imagine what it would do for the hotel if an Overlord got redeemed! It would be unprecedented!” 

“This conversation is unprec- un – shut up,” Angel said, “I ain’t doin’ it, so ya can all forget about it.” 

“If that’s what you wish, cher,” Alastor said, “But it would be a shame.”

\---- 

Angel didn’t sleep well anymore. The only time he could ever sleep through the night was with the help of drugs and booze, and he’d totally given up one and was doing his best to limit the other. He’d wake up several times in the night, teeth grinding, a few times clenched so tight he thought he might crack a tooth. Valentino was gone, but the scars weren’t. 

Sometimes he felt weirdly guilty about the circumstances of the moth’s death. When he’d brought it up to Charlie, she said that was normal, considering the sheer amount of time Angel and Valentino had spent working together, but still reminded him that their relationship hadn’t been healthy. As if he didn’t already know that. He was sent off with another good boy sticker for sharing his thoughts, to be added to the growing pile on top of his dresser. 

Charlie could be a good listener, but she was always so goddamn action-oriented. Sometimes Angel just wanted to bitch, and for that, he was grateful Cherri had joined the hotel for real. He spent a lot of late nights playing chess and talking to Alastor in front of the fire too, but he didn’t quite feel comfortable spilling all his guts to the deer just yet. Only Cherri heard his deepest thoughts. 

Since her new official bedroom was just across the hall from his, he could pop over whenever he wanted – the two never left their doors locked. Just in case. 

Cherri was still awake when he poked his head in, smiling and waving him in. 

“Angie, I got a new color nail polish – wanna check it out?” 

“Fuck yeah,” Angel said, leaping onto her bed and bouncing up and down, taking the nail polish container she handed him and examining the color. 

“So,” Cherri said casually as she started in on her own nails, “What was it this time?” 

“Stomach.” 

“Fuckin’ sucks that we’re dead and still have to deal with stomach pain,” Cherri laughed a little. “You remember to eat today?” 

“Ah…” 

Cherri put down the nail polish, “Come on, Angel.” 

“Sorry, it’s just so easy to forget,” Angel sighed. “I’m used to feelin’ like crap and I used to go days without… ‘cause…” 

“I know,” Cherri said easily, “But you’re in charge of your own body now, Angie. Here,” she reached under the bed, grabbing an orange and tossed it to him, “And you better be damn grateful, bitch, you know it’s hard to get fresh fruit down here.” 

Angel smiled a little, starting to peel it, “Yeah, yeah. Put some music on, will ya? It’s too dead in here.” 

Cherri obliged, switching on her boombox, “Feel like Madonna?” 

“Who?”

“Oh right,” Cherri smirked, “I forgot, you’re old!” 

“Ey!” Angel laughed, throwing half of the orange at her, “I ain’t old!” 

“Believe me,” Cherri said, ducking as Angel swiped at her, “You’ll _love_ Madonna.” 

\---- 

The Happy Hotel Mark Two was complete. 

Totally rebuilt, restructured, and repainted, better than before. 

With Vox out of the picture, Alastor had temporarily taken over the television stations until someone wanted to step up to the task, much to the deer’s annoyance. Despite Alastor’s grumbling about his new responsibilities, it was convenient for Charlie to get back on the airwaves and advertise the hotel again. Nobody would mess with her with Alastor watching. 

Surprisingly (or maybe unsurprisingly), the news of the previous hotel blowing up brought them tons of curious demons. Most were just curious to see the building, but a good handful actually stayed to sign up for the hotel, thrilling Charlie. 

With the hotel getting busier, Angel and Cherri spent more time assisting with the new patrons, trying to take undue pressure off Charlie and Alastor. 

“I never knew you had so many management skills,” Cherri said one night while she and Angel knelt on the floor of Husk’s bar, working on something.

“Eh, it ain’t that hard,” Angel said. “If ya just sound like ya know what you’re doin’, people think ya do and do what ya say.” 

“Still though – are you sure you don’t wanna – “ 

“Don’t bring up that Overlord shit again,” Angel said, shoving what he was working on into a cabinet and forcing it shut, “I don’t wanna do it.” 

“Okay, okay.” Cherri looked around at their work, “Do you think this is enough?” 

“Oh yeah. Way more than enough. Ready to watch?” 

“Yep!” 

Angel straightened up, leading the way over to the stairway balcony, pulling out his phone. “There, I texted Husk. He’ll be here in a minute.” 

Cherri nodded, leaning on the banister that overlooked the lobby and the bar, looking down. “Hey, Angie, if you ever did get to Heaven… do you ever wonder what it’s like?” 

“Mm… sometimes, but I doubt I’ll eva get there,” Angel said. “That’s okay, though –“ He looked down at the bar where Husk had just arrived. The cat looked around for a moment, confused, before checking his phone and pulling open one of the cupboards, letting out a shout as thousands of rubber ducks descended upon him. 

Angel cackled, turning around to run as Husk started to punch his way out of the pile of yellow rubber monstrosities, “This is good enough.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm actually really sad this story is over! It really took over my brain haha.  
> I like the idea that since he died in 1947 Angel would've missed out on some big names like Madonna, or maybe heard her songs but had no idea who she was.  
> In any case, THANK YOU SO MUCH to everyone who read this, left comments, kudos, bookmarks - this is my most successful fanfic so far and the engagement has really made me super happy!  
> I'd like to keep writing, so I'm currently taking requests for Hazbin fanfics as I don't have any other ideas right now lol. If you want to request something you can go ahead and do that on my Twitter, @Xingshou1. Despite this being a RadioDust story I'm not married to anything - I ship Angel Dust with being fucking happy haha.  
> THANK YOU AGAIN  
> I'm so glad you all liked this story so much :)


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